V 


* 

\ 


Daniel  Boone 


Pioneer  of  Kentucky 


By 

JOHN  S.  C.  ABBOTT 


New  York 

Dodd,  Mead  and  Company- 

Publishers 


Copyright,  1872, 

BY 

DODD  &  MEAD. 


Copyright,  1900,  1914, 

BY 

LAURA  ABBOTT  BUCK. 


Printed  in  U.  S.  A, 


PREFACE. 


The  name  of  Daniel  Boone  is  a  conspicuous  one  in 
the  annals  of  our  country.  And  yet  there  are  but 
few  who  are  familiar  with  the  events  of  his  wonderful 
career,  or  who  have  formed  a  correct  estimate  of  the 
character  of  the  man.  Many  suppose  that  he  was  a 
rough,  coarse  backwoodsman,  almost  as  savage  as  the 
bears  he  pursued  in  the  chase,  or  the  Indians  whose 
terrors  he  so  perseveringly  braved.  Instead  of  this 
he  was  one  of  the  most  mild  and  unboastful  of  men  ; 
feminine  as  a  woman  in  his  tastes  and  his  deport¬ 
ment,  never  uttering  a  coarse  word,  never  allowing 
himself  in  a  rude  action.  He  was  truly  one  of  nature’s 
gentle  men.  With  all  this  instinctive  refinement  and 
delicacy,  there  was  a  boldness  of  character  which 
seemed  absolutely  incapable  of  experiencing  the 
emotion  of  fear.  And  surely  all  the  records  of  chivalry 
may  be  searched  in  vain  for  a  career  more  full  of  peril 
and  of  wild  adventure. 

This  narrative  reveals  a  state  of  society  and  habi¬ 
tudes  of  life  now  rapidly  passing  into  oblivion.  It  is 


very  desirable  that  the  record  should  be  perpetuated, 
that  we  may  know  the  scenes  through  which  om 
fathers  passed,  in  laying  the  foundations  of  this  majes¬ 
tic  Republic.  It  is  probable  that  as  the  years  roll  on 
the  events  which  occurred  in  the  infancy  of  our  nation 
will  be  read  with  ever-increasing  interest. 

It  is  the  intention  of  the  publisher  of  this  volume  to 
issue  a  series  of  sketches  of  the  prominent  men  in  the 
early  history  of  our  country.  The  next  volume  will 
contain  the  life  and  adventures  of  the  renowned  Miles 
Standish,  the  Puritan  Captain. 

JOHN  S.  C.  ABBOTT 


Fair  Haven,  Conn, 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Fags 

Discovery  of  the  New  World. — -Of  Florida.-— Conquest  and  cru¬ 
elties  of  DeSofco.— The  Wigwam, — Colony  at  St.  Mary.— -Sir 
Walter  Releigh  and  his  Colonies.— Grant  of  King  James.— 
Settlements  in  the  Virginia. — Adventures  of  John  Smith.— 
Arrival  of  Lord  Delaware. — Terrible  massacres. — Pressures 
of  Colonists  to  the  West. — Doherty  Trade  with  Indians.— 
Attempted  Colony  on  the  Tennessee. — Daniel  Boone . .  0 

CHAPTER  II. 

Trials  of  the  Colonists. — George  Boone  and  his  home. — Squire 
Boone. — -Birth  and  character  of  Daniel  Boone.— His  limited 
education.— A  pioneer’s  camp. — A  log  house  and  furnish¬ 
ings. — Annoyance  of  Boone  on  the  arrival  of  Scotch  emi¬ 
grants.— His  longings  for  adventure.— Camp  meetings. — 
Frontier  life.  —  Sports.  —  Squirrel  hunting.— Snuffing  the 
candle . . . . . . . . . . .  3$ 

CHAPTER  III. 

Louisiana,  and  its  eventful  history.— The  expedition  of  DeSoto. 
—The  Missionary  Marquette. — His  voyage  on  the  Upper 
Mississippi.— The  Expedition  of  La  Salle. — Michilimacki- 
nac.  —  Its  History. —  Fate  of  the  “  Griffin.”— Grief  of  Ls 
Salle. — His  voyage  of  Discovery. — Sale  of  Louisiana  to  the 
United  State. — Remarks  of  Napoleon.  74 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  IT. 


Pit®* 

John  Finley  and  his  adventures. — Aspect  of  the  Country. — > 
Boone’s  Private  Character. — His  Love  for  the  Wilderness. 
First  view  of  Kentucky.  —  Emigrants’  Dress.  —  Hunter’s 
Home.— -Capture  of  Boone  and  Stewart  by  the  Indians.— 
Their  Escape.— Singular  Incident. . . . .  81- 


CHAPTER  V. 


Alleghany  Ridges. — Voyage  in  a  canoe. — Speech  of  Logan.— 
Battle  at  the  Kanawha. — Narrative  of  Francis  Marion.— 
Important  commission  of  Boone. — Council  at  Circleville.— 
Treaty  of  Peace.— Imlay’s  description  of  Kentucky. — Settle¬ 
ment  right.— Richard  Henderson. — Boone’s  letter.— Fort 
Booncsborough ......  . . . . . . .  109 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Emigration  to  Boonesborough. — New  Perils.  —  Transylvania 
Company.— Beneficence  of  its  Laws  - — Interesting  incident. 

— Infamous  conduct  of  Great  Britain. — Attack  on  the  Fort. 
—Reinforcements. — Simon  Kenton  and  his  Sufferings. — 

Mrs.  Harvey . .  1 3S 


CHAPTRE  VII. 

Etewaxt  killed  by  the  Indians. — Squire  Boone  returns  to  the 
Settlements. — Solitary  Life  of  Daniel  Boone.— Return  of 
Squire  Boone.— Extended  and  Romantic  Explorations. — 
Charms  and  Perils  of  the  Wilderness.— The  Emigrant  Party. 
—The  Fatal  Ambuscade. — Retreat  of  the  Emigrants.— 
Solitude  of  the  Wilderness. — Expedition  of  Lewis  and 
Clarke. — Extraordinary  Adventures  of  Cotter . , .  151 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

{foreign  of  Thomas  Higgins  and  of  Mrs  Pursley. — Affairs  at 
Boonesborough^ — Continued  Alarms.— Need  of  Salt. —  Its 


CONTENTS. 


VII 

Pass 

Manufacture, — Indian  Schemes. — Capture  of  Boone  and 
twenty-seven  men.— Dilemma  of  the  British  at  Detroit. — 
Blackflsh  adopts  Colonel  Boone.— Adoption  Ceremony.— 
Indian  Designs. — Escape  of  Boone.— Attacks  the  Savages. 
—The  Fort  Threatened . . . , ,  182 

0HAPT2S  XX. 

Situation  of  the  Fort. — Indian  Treachery. — Bombardment. — 
Boone  goes  to  North  Carolina. — New  Trials. — Boone 
Robbed.— He  returns  to  Kentucky. — Massacre  of  Colonel 
Rogers. — Adventure  of  Col.  Bowman. — New  Attack  by  the 
British  and  Indians. — Retaliatory  Measures. — Wonderful 
Exploit .  209 


CHAPTER  X. 

Death  of  Squire  Boone. — Indian  Outrages. — Gerty  and  McGee. 

— Battle  of  Blue  Lick. — Death  of  Isaac  Boone. — Colonel 
Boone’s  Narrow  Escape. — Letter  of  Daniel  Boone. — Deter¬ 
mination  of  General  Clarke. — Discouragement  of  the 
Savages. — Amusing  Anecdote  of  Daniel  Boone. .  . . .  230 

CHAPTER  XL 

Peace  with  England.— Order  of  a  Kentucky  Court.— Anecdotes. 
Speech  of  Mr.  Dalton.— Reply  of  Plankashaw.— Renewed 
Indications  of  Indian  Hostility.— Conventions  at  Danville. 
—Kentucky  formed  into  a  State.— New  Trials  for  Boone. .  t  2A8 

CHAPTER  XII. 

The  Search  for  the  Horse. — Navigating  the  Ohio. — Heroism  of 
Mrs.  Rowan. — Lawless  Gangs. — Exchange  of  Prisoners.— 
Boone  Revisits  the  Home  of  his  Childhood.— The  Realms 
beyond  the  Mississippi. — Habits  of  the  Hunters.— Com — 
Boone’s  Journey  to  the  West . .  .  Sftl 


VIII  CONTENTS. 

Page 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Colo® cl  Boone  welcomed  by  the  Spanish  Authorities.-  Boone's 
Narrative  to  Audubon. — The  Midnight  Attack.  —  Pursuit 
of  the  Savages. — Sickness  in  the  Wilderness. — Honesty  of 
Colonel  Boone. — Payment  of  his  Debts. — Loss  of  all  his 
Property . . . . . .  . 3tt 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Colonel  Boone  Appeals  to  Congress. — Complimentary  Resolu¬ 
tions  of  the  Legislature  of  Kentucky. — Death  of  Mrs.  Boone. 
—Catholic  Liberality  — Itinerant  Preachers.— Grant  by 
Congress  to  Colonel  Boone. — The  Evening  of  his  Days.— 
Personal  Appearance. — Death  and  Burial. — Transference  e>£ 

Xhe  Remains  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boone  to  Francfort,  Kentucky  SSf 


CHAPTER  I. 


The  Discovery  and  early  Settlement  of  America. 

Discovery  of  the  New  World. — Of  Florida. — Conquest  and  cruelties 
of  Deeota  —  The  wigwam. — Colony  at  St.  Mary.-- Sir  Walter 
Relelgta  and  his  Colonies. — Grant  of  King  James.— Settlements 
in  the  Virginia. — Adventures  of  John  Smith. — Arrival  of  Lord 
Delaware,— -Terrible  massacres. — Pressures  of  Colonist*  to  the 
West — Doherty  Trade  with  Indian*. — Attempted  Colony  on  the 
Tennessee. — Daniel  Boone. 

The  little  fleet  of  three  small  vessels,  with  which 
Columbus  left  Palos  in  Spain,  in  search  of  a  new 
world,  had  been  sixty-seven  days  at  sea.  They  had 
traversed  nearly  three  thousand  miles  of  ocean,  and 
yet  there  was  nothing  but  a  wide  expanse  of  waters 
spread  out  before  them.  The  despairing  crew  were 
loud  in  their  murmurs,  demanding  that  the  expedition 
should  be  abandoned  and  that  the  ships  should  return 
to  Spain.  The  morning  of  the  nth  of  October,  1492, 
had  come.  During  the  day  Columbus,  whose  heart 
had  been  very  heavily  oppressed  with  anxiety,  had 
been  cheered  by  some  indications  that  they  were 
approaching  land.  Fresh  seaweed  was  occasionally 
seen  and  a  branch  of  a  shrub  with  leaves  and  berries 
upon  it,  and  a  piece  of  wood  curiously  carved  had 
been  picked  up. 


IO 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


The  devout  commander  was  so  animated  by  these 
Indications,  that  he  gathered  his  crew  around  him  and 
returned  heartfelt  thanks  to  God,  for  this  prospect 
that  their  voyage  would  prove  successful.  It  was  & 
beautiful  night,  the  moon  shone  brilliantly  and  a  deli¬ 
cious  tropical  breeze  swept  the  ocean.  At  ten  o’clock 
Columbus  stood  upon  the  bows  of  his  ship  earnestly 
gazing  upon  the  western  horizon,  hoping  that  the 
long-looked-for  land  would  rise  before  him.  Suddenly 
he  was  startled  by  the  distinct  gleam  of  a  torch  far  off 
in  the  distance.  For  a  moment  it  beemed  forth  with 
a  clear  and  indisputable  flame  and  then  disappeared. 
The  agitation  of  Columbus  no  words  can  describe, 
Was  it  a  meteor  ?  Was  it  an  optical  illusion  ?  Was  it 
light  from  the  land  ? 

Suddenly  the  torch,  like  a  star,  again  shone  forth 
with  distinct  though  faint  gleam.  Columbus  called 
some  of  his  companions  to  his  side  and  they  also 
saw  the  light  clearly.  But  again  it  disappeared.  At 
two  o'clock  in  the  morning  a  sailor  at  the  look  out  on 
the  mast  head  shoo  ted,  “  Land  !  land  i  land  !  ”  In  a 
few  moments  ail  beheld,  but  a  few  miles  distant  from 
them,  the  distinct  outline  of  towering  mountains 
piercing  the  skies.  A  new  world  was  discovered. 
Cautiously  the  vessels  hove  to  and  waited  for  the 
light  of  the  morning.  The  dawn  of  day  presented 
to  the  eyes  of  Columbus  and  his  companions  a  spec- 


fHE  DISCOVERY  AND  SETTLEMENT  OF  AMERICA.  1$ 


tacle  of  beauty  which  the  garden  of  Eden  could  hardly 
have  rivalled.  It  was  a  morning  of  the  tropics,  calm 
serene  and  lovely.  But  two  miles  before  them  there 
emerged  from  the  sea  an  island  of  mountains  and 
valleys,  luxuriant  with  every  variety  of  tropical  ve¬ 
getation.  The  voyagers,  weary  of  gazing  for  many 
weeks  on  the  wide  waste  of  waters,  were  so  enchanted 
with  the  fairy  scene  which  then  met  the  eye,  that  they 
seemed  really  to  believe  that  they  had  reached  the 
realms  of  the  blest. 

The  boats  were  lowered,  and,  as  they  were  rowed 
towards  the  shore,  the  scene  every  moment  grew  more 
beautiful.  Gigantic  trees  draped  in  luxuriance  of 
foliage  hitherto  unimagined,  rose  in  the  soft  valleys 
and  upon  the  towering  hills.  In  the  sheltered  groves, 
screened  from  the  sun,  the  picturesque  dwellings  of 
the  natives  were  thickly  clustered.  Flowers  of  every 
variety  of  tint  bloomed  in  marvellous  profusion.  The 
trees  seemed  laden  with  fruits  of  every  kind,  and 
in  inexhaustible  abundance.  Thousands  of  natives 
crowded  the  shore,  whose  graceful  forms  and  exqui¬ 
sitely  moulded  limbs  indicated  the  innocence  and  sim¬ 
plicity  of  Eden  before  the  fall. 

Columbus,  richly  attired  in  a  scarlet  dress,  fell  upon 
his  knees  as  he  reached  the  beach,  and,  with  clasped 
hands  and  uplifted  eyes,  gave  utterance  to  the  devout 
which  ever  inspired  him,  in  thanksgiving  to 


12 


DANIEL  BOONE, 


God.  In  recognition  of  the  divine  protection  he  gave 
the  island  the  name  of  San  Salvador,  or  Holy  Savior. 
Though  the  new  world  thus  discovered  was  one  of 
the  smallest  islands  of  the  Caribbean  Sea,  no  concep¬ 
tion  was  then  formed  of  the  vast  continents  of  North 
and  South  America,  stretching  out  in  both  directions, 
for  many  leagues  almost  to  the  Arctic  and  Antarctic 
poles. 

Omitting  a  description  of  the  wonderful  adventures 
which  ensued,  we  can  only  mention  that  two  years 
after  this,  the  southern  extremity  of  the  North  Amer¬ 
ican  continent  was  discovered  by  Sebastian  Cabot 
It  was  in  the  spring  of  the  year  and  the  whole  surface 
of  the  soil  seemed  carpeted  with  the  most  brilliant 
flowers.  The  country  consequently  received  the  beau¬ 
tiful  name  of  Florida.  It,  of  course,  had  no  boun¬ 
daries,  for  no  one  knew  with  certainty  whether  it  were 
an  island  or  a  continent,  or  how  far  its  limits  might 
extend. 

The  years  rolled  on  and  gradually  exploring  excur¬ 
sions  crept  along  the  coast  towards  the  north,  various 
provinces  were  mapped  out  with  pretty  distinct  boun¬ 
daries  upon  the  Atlantic  coast,  extending  indefinitely 
into  the  vast  and  unknown  interior.  Expeditions 
from  France  had  entered  the  St.  Lawrence  and  estab¬ 
lished  settlements  in  Canada.  For  a  time  the  whole 
Atlantic  coast,  from  its  extreme  southern  point  to 


THE  DISCOVERY  AND  SETTLEMENT  OF  AMERICA.  13 

Canada,  was  called  Florida  In  the  year  1539,  Fer- 
dinand  de  Soto,  an  unprincipled  Spanish  warrior,  who 
had  obtained  renown  by  the  conquest  of  Peru  in 
South  America,  fitted  out  by  permission  of  the  king 
of  Spain,  an  expedition  of  nearly  a  thousand  men  to 
conquer  and  take  possession  of  that  vast  and  indefi¬ 
nite  realm  called  Florida. 

We  have  no  space  here  to  enter  upon  a  description 
of  the  fiendlike  cruelties  practiced  by  these  Spaniards. 
They  robbed  and  enslaved  without  mercy.  In  pur¬ 
suit  of  gold  they  wandered  as  far  north  as  the  pre¬ 
sent  boundary  of  South  Carolina.  Then  turning  to 
the  west,  they  traversed  the  vast  region  to  the  Missis¬ 
sippi  river.  The  lorests  were  full  of  game.  The  gran¬ 
aries  of  the  simple-hearted  natives  were  well  stored 
with  corn  ;  vast  prairies  spreading  in  all  directions 
around  them,  waving  with  grass  and  blooming  with 
dowers,  presented  ample  forage  for  the  three  hundred 
horses  which  accompanied  the  expedition.  They 
were  also  provided  with  fierce  bloodhounds  to  hunt 
down  the  terrified  natives.  Thus  invincible  and  armed 
^ith  the  “  thunder  and  lightning  ”  of  their  guns,  they 
swept  the  country,  perpetrating  every  conceivable 
outrage  upon  the  helpless  natives. 

After  long  and  unavailing  wanderings  in  search  of 
gold,  having  lost  by  sickness  and  the  casualties  of 
such  an  expedition  nearly  half  their  number,  the 


14 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


remainder  built  boats  upon  the  Mississippi,  descended 
that  rapid  stream  five  hundred  miles  to  its  mouth, 
and  then  skirting  the  coast  of  Texas,  finally  disap¬ 
peared  on  the  plains  of  Mexico.  De  Soto,  the  leader 
of  this  conquering  band,  died  miserably  on  the  Mis¬ 
sissippi,  and  was  buried  beneath  its  waves. 

The  whole  country  which  these  adventurers  tra¬ 
versed,  they  found  to  be  quite  densely  populated  with 
numerous  small  tribes  of  natives,  each  generally  wan¬ 
dering  within  circumscribed  limits.  Though  these 
tribes  spoke  different  languages,  or  perhaps  different 
dialects  of  the  same  language,  they  were  essentially 
the  same  in  appearance,  manners  and  customs.  They 
were  of  a  dark-red  color,  well  formed  and  always  dis~ 
posed  to  receive  the  pale  face  strangers  with  kind¬ 
liness,  until  exasperated  by  ill-treatment  They  lived 
in  fragile  huts  called  wigwams,  so  simple  in  their 
structure  that  one  could  easily  be  erected  in  a  few 
hours.  These  huts  were  generally  formed  by  setting 
long  and  slender  poles  in  the  ground,  inclosing  an 
area  of  from  ten  to  eighteen  feet  in  diameter,  accord¬ 
ing  to  the  size  of  the  family.  The  tops  were  tied 
together,  leaving  a  hole  for  the  escape  of  smoke  from 
the  central  fire.  The  sides  were  thatched  with  coarse 
grass,  or  so  covered  with  the  bark  of  trees,  as  quite 
effectually  to  exclude  both  wind  and  rain.  There  were 
no  windows,  light  entering  only  throi^gh  the  almost 


THE  DISCOVERY  AND  SETTLEMENT  OF  AMERICA.  1 5 

always  open  door.  The  ground  floor  was  covered 
with  dried  grass,  or  the  skins  of  animals,  or  with  the 
soft  and  fragrant  twigs  of  some  evergreen  tree. 

The  inmates,  men,  women  and  children,  seated 
upon  these  cushions,  presented  a  very  attractive 
and  cheerful  aspect.  Several  hundred  of  these  wig¬ 
wams  were  frequently  clustered  upon  some  soft 
meadow  by  the  side  of  a  flowing  stream,  fringed  with 
a  gigantic  forest,  and  exhibited  a  spectacle  of  pictu¬ 
resque  loveliness  quite  charming  to  the  beholder.  The 
furniture  of  these  humble  abodes  was  extremely 
simple.  They  had  no  pots  or  kettles  which  would 
stand  the  fire.  They  had  no  knives  nor  forks;  no 
tables  nor  chairs.  Sharp  flints,  such  as  they  could 
find  served  for  knives,  with  which,  with  incredible 
labor,  they  sawed  down  small  trees  and  fashioned 
their  bows  and  arrows.  They  had  no  roads  except 
foot  paths  through  the  wilderness,  which  for  genera¬ 
tions  their  ancestors  had  traversed,  called  “trails.” 
They  had  no  beasts  of  burden,  no  cows,  no  flocks  nor 
herds  of  any  kind.  They  generally  had  not  even 
salt,  but  cured  their  meat  by  drying  it  in  the  sun. 
They  had  no  ploughs,  hoes,  spades,  consequently  they 
could  only  cultivate  the  lightest  soil.  With  a  sharp 
stick,  women  loosened  the  earth,  and  then  depositing 
their  corn  or  mai&e,  cultivated  it  in  the  rudest 


* 


manner. 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


These  Indians  acquired  the  reputation  of  being  very 
faithful  friends,  but  very  bitter  enemies.  It  was  said 
they  never  forgot  a  favor,  and  never  forgave  an  insult 
They  were  cunning  rather  than  brave.  It  was  seldom 
that  an  Indian  could  be  induced  to  meet  a  foe  in  an 
open  hand-to-hand  fight  But  he  would  track  him 
for  years,  hoping  to  take  him  unawares  and  to  brain 
him  with  the  tomahawk,  or  pierce  his  heart  with  the 
Hint-pointed  arrow. 

About  the  year  1565,  a  company  of  French  Pro¬ 
testants  repaired  to  Florida,  hoping  there  to  find  the 
liberty  to  worship  God  in  accordance  with  their  inter¬ 
pretation  of  the  teachings  of  the  Bible.  They  estab¬ 
lished  quite  a  flourishing  colony,  at  a  place  which  they 
named  St.  Marys,  near  the  coast.  This  was  the  first 
European  settlement  on  the  continent  of  North  Am¬ 
erica.  The  fanatic  Spaniards,  learning  that  Protestants 
had  taken  possession  of  the  country,  sent  out  an 
expedition  and  utterly  annihilated  the  settlement, 
putting  men,  women  and  children  to  the  sword.  Many 
of  these  unfortunate  Protestants  were  hung  in  chains 
from  trees  under  the  inscription,  “  Not  as  Frenchmen 
but  as  Heretics' *  The  blood-stained  Spaniards  then 
established  themselves  at  a  spot  near  by,  which  they 
called  St.  Augustine.  A  French  gentleman  of  wealth 
fitted  out  a  well-manned  and  well-armed  expedition 
of  three  ships  attacked  the  murderers  by  surprise  and 


THE  DISCOVERY  AND  SETTLEMENT  OF  AMERICA. 

put  them  to  death.  Several  corpses  were  suspended 
from  trees,  under  the  inscription,  “  Not  as  Spaniards , 
but  as  Murderers .” 

There  was  an  understanding  among  the  powers  of 
Europe,  that  any  portion  of  the  New  World  discov¬ 
ered  by  expeditions  from  European  courts,  should  be 
recognised  as  belonging  to  that  court.  The  Spaniards 
had  taken  possession  in  Florida.  Far  away  a  thousand 
leagues  to  the  North,  the  French  had  entered  the  gulf 
of  St.  Lawrence.  But  little  was  known  of  the  vast 
region  between.  A  young  English  gentleman,  Sir 
Walter  Raleigh,  an  earnest  Protestant,  and  one  who 
had  fought  with  the  French  Protestants  in  their  reli¬ 
gious  wars,  roused  by  the  massacre  of  his  friends  in 
Florida,  applied  to  the  British  court  to  fit  out  a  colony 
to  take  possession  of  the  intermediate  country.  He 
hoped  thus  to  prevent  the  Spanish  monarchy,  and  the 
equally  intolerant  French  court,  from  spreading  their 
principles  over  the  whole  continent.  The  Protestant 
Queen  Elisabeth  then  occupied  the  throne  of  Great 
Britain.  Raleigh  was  young,  rich,  handsome  and  mar¬ 
velously  fascinating  in  his  address.  He  became  a 
great  favorite  of  the  maiden  queen,  and  she  gave  him 
a  commission,  making  him  lord  of  all  the  continent 
of  North  America,  between  Florida  and  Canada. 

The  whole  of  this  vast  region  without  any  accurate 
boundaries,  was  called  Virginia.  Several  ships  were 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


18 

sent  to  explore  the  country.  They  reached  the  coast 
of  what  is  now  called  North  Carolina,  and  the  adven¬ 
turers  landed  at  Roanoke  Island.  They  were  charmed 
with  the  climate,  with  the  friendliness  of  the  natives 
and  with  the  majestic  growth  of  the  forest  trees,  far 
surpassing  anything  they  had  witnessed  in  the  Old 
World.  Grapes  in  rich  clusters  hung  in  profusion  on 
the  vines,  and  birds  of  every  variety  of  song  and 
plumage  filled  the  groves.  The  expedition  returned 
to  England  with  such  glowing  accounts  of  the  realm 
they  had  discovered,  that  seven  ships  were  fitted  out, 
conveying  one  hundred  and  eight  men,  to  colonise 
the  island.  It  is  quite  remarkable  that  no  women 
accompanied  the  expedition.  Many  of  these  men 
were  reckless  adventurers.  Bitter  hostility  soon  sprang 
up  between  them  and  the  Indians,  who  at  first  had 
received  them  with  the  greatest  kindness. 

Most  of  these  colonists  were  men  unaccustomed 
to  work,  and  who  insanely  expected  that  in  the  New 
World,  in  some  unknown  way,  wealth  was  to  flow  in 
upon  them  like  a  flood.  Disheartened,  homesick  and 
appalled  by  the  hostile  attitude  which  the  much  op¬ 
pressed  Indians  were  beginning  to  assume,  they  were 
all  anxious  to  return  home.  When,  soon  after,  some 
ships  came  bringing  them  abundant  supplies,  they 
with  one  accord  abandoned  the  colony,  and  crowding 
the  vessels  returned  to  England.  Fifteen  men  feowevet 


THE  DISCOVERY  AND  SETTLEMENT  OF  AMERICA  19 

consented  to  remain,  to  await  the  arrival  of  fresh 
colonists  from  the  Mother  Country. 

Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  still  undiscouraged,  in  the  next 
year  1587  sent  out  another  fleet  containing  a  number 
of  families  as  emigrants,  with  women  and  children. 
When  they  arrived,  they  found  Roanoke  deserted.  The 
fifteen  men  had  been  murdered  by  the  Indians  is 
retaliation  for  the  murder  of  their  chief  and  several  of 
his  warriors  by  the  English.  With  fear  and  trembling 
the  new  settlers  decided  to  remain,  urging  the  friends 
who  had  accompanied  them  to  hasten  back  to  England 
with  the  ships  and  bring  them  reinforcements  and 
supplies.  Scarcely  had  they  spread  their  sails  on  the 
return  voyage  ere  war  broke  out  with  Spain.  It  was 
three  years  before  another  ship  crossed  the  ocean,  to 
see  what  had  become  of  the  colony.  It  had  utterly 
disappeared.  Though  many  attempts  were  made  to 
ascertain  its  tragic  fate,  all  were  unavailing.  It  is 
probable  that  many  were  put  to  death  by  the  Indians, 
and  perhaps  the  children  were  carried  far  back  into 
the  interior  and  incorporated  into  their  tribes.  This 
bitter  disappointment  seemed  to  paralyse  the  energies 
of  colonization.  For  more  than  seventy  years  the 
C&rolinas  remained  a  wilderness,  with  no  attempt  to 
transfer  to  them  the  civilization  of  the  Old  World.  Still 
English  ships  continued  occasionally  to  visit  the  coast 
Some  came  to  fish,  some  to  purchase  furs  of  ilia 


20 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


Indians,  and  some  for  timber  for  shipbuilding,  Tht 
stories  which  these  voyagers  told  on  their  return, 
kept  up  an  interest  in  the  New  World.  It  was  indeed 
m  attractive  picture  which  could  be  truthfully  painted. 
The  climate  was  mild,  genial  and  salubrious.  The 
atmosphere  surpassed  the  far-famed  transparency  of 
Italian  skies.  The  forests  were  of  gigantic  growth, 
more  picturesquely  beautiful  than  any  ever  planted 
by  man's  hand,  and  they  were  filled  with  game.  The 
lakes  and  streams  swarmed  with  fish.  A  wilderness 
of  flowers,  of  every  variety  of  loveliness,  bloomed  over 
the  wide  meadows  and  the  broad  savannahs,  which 
the  forest  had  not  yet  invaded.  Berries  and  fruits 
were  abundant.  In  many  places  the  soil  was  surpass¬ 
ingly  rich,  and  easily  tilled  ;  and  all  this  was  open, 
without  money  and  without  price,  to  the  first  comer. 

Still  more  than  a  hundred  years  elapsed  after  the 
discovery  of  these  realms,  ere  any  permanent  settle¬ 
ment  was  effected  upon  them.  Most  of  the  bays, 
harbors  and  rivers  were  unexplored,  and  reposed  as 
it  were  in  the  solemn  silence  of  eternity.  From  the 
everglades  of  Florida  to  the  firclad  hills  of  Nova 
Scotia,  not  a  settlement  of  white  men  could  be  found. 

At  length  in  the  year  1607,  a  number  of  wealthy 
gentlemen  in  London  formed  a  company  to  make  a 
new  attempt  for  the  settlement  of  America.  It  was 
their  plan  to  send  out  hardy  colonists,  aLuudaofcly 


THE  DISCOVERY  AND  SETTLEMENT  OF  AMERICA.  21 

provided  with  arms,  tools  and  provisions.  King 
James  I.,  who  had  succeeded  his  cousin  Queen  Eliza¬ 
beth,  granted  them  a  charter,  by  which,  wherevei  they 
might  effect  a  landing,  they  were  to  be  the  undisputed 
lords  of  a  territory  extending  a  hundred  miles  along 
the  coast,  and  running  back  one  hundred  miles  into 
the  interior.  Soon  after,  a  similar  grant  was  conferred 
upon  another  association,  for  the  region  of  North 
Virginia,  now  called  New  England. 

Under  the  protection  of  this  London  Company,  one 
hundred  and  five  men,  writh  no  women  or  children, 
embarked  in  three  small  ships  for  the  Southern 
Atlantic  coast  of  North  America.  Apparently  by 
accident,  they  entered  Chesapeake  Bay,  where  they 
found  a  broad  and  deep  stream,  which  they  named 
after  their  sovereign,  James  River.  As  they  ascended 
ti  ls  beautiful  stream,  they  were  charmed  with  the 
loveliness  which  nature  had  spread  so  profusely  around 
them  Upon  the  northern  banks  of  the  river,  about 
fifty  miles  from  its  entrance  into  the  bay,  they  selected 
a  spot  for  their  settlement,  which  they  named  James¬ 
town  Here  they  commenced  cutting  down  trees  and 
raising  their  huts. 

In  an  enterprise  of  this  kind,  muscles  inured  to  work 
and  determined  spirits  ready  to  grapple  with  diffi¬ 
culties,  are  essential.  In  such  labors,  the  most  useless 
of  all  beings  is  the  gentleman  with  soft  hands  and 


22 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


luxurious  habits.  Unfortunately  quite  a  number  of 
pampered  sons  of  wealth  had  joined  the  colony. 
Being  indolent,  selfish  and  dissolute,  they  could  do 
absolutely  nothing  for  the  prosperity  of  the  settlement, 
but  were  only  an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  its  growth. 

Troubles  soon  began  to  multiply,  and  but  for  the 
energies  of  a  remarkable  man,  Capt.  John  Smith,  the 
colony  must  soon  have  perished  through  anarchy. 
But  even  Capt.  John  Smith  with  all  his  commanding 
powers,  and  love  of  justice  and  of  law,  could  not  pre¬ 
vent  the  idle  and  profligate  young  men  from  insulting 
the  natives,  and  robbing  them  of  their  corn.  With 
the  autumnal  rains  sickness  came,  and  many  died. 
The  hand  of  well-organised  industry  might  have 
raised  an  ample  supply  of  corn  to  meet  all  their  wants 
through  the  short  winter.  But  this  had  been  neglected, 
and  famine  was  added  to  sickness,  Capt.  Smith  had 
go  won  the  confidence  of  the  Indian  chieftains,  that 
notwithstanding  the  gross  irregularities  of  his  young 
men,  they  brought  him  supplies  of  corn  and  game, 
which  they  freely  gave  to  the  English  in  their  desti¬ 
tution. 

Captain  Smith  having  thus  provided  for  the  necessi¬ 
ties  of  the  greatly  diminished  colony,  set  out  with  a 
small  party  of  men  on  an  exploring  expedition  into 
the  interior.  He  was  waylay ed  by  Indians,  who  with 
arrows  acd  tomahawks  speed’ iy  put  all  the  men  to 


THE  DISCOVERY  AND  SETTLEMENT  OF  AMERICA,  23 

death,  excepting  the  leader,  who  was  taken  captive. 
There  was  something  in  the  demeanor  of  this  brave 
man  which  overawed  them.  He  showed  them  his 
pocket  compass,  upon  which  they  gazed  with  wonder 
He  then  told  them  that  if  they  would  send  to  the  fort  a 
leaf  from  his  pocket-book,  upon  which  he  had  made 
several  marks  with  his  pencil,  they  would  find  the 
next  day,  at  any  spot  they  might  designate,  a  certain 
number  of  axes,  blankets,  and  other  articles  of  great 
value  to  them.  Their  curiosity  was  exceedingly 
aroused  ;  the  paper  was  sent,  and  the  next  day  the 
articles  were  found  as  promised.  The  Indians  looked 
upon  Captain  Smith  as  a  magician,  and  treated 
him  with  great  respect.  Still  the  more  thoughtful  of 
the  natives  regarded  him  as  a  more  formidable  foe. 
They  could  not  be  blind  to  the  vastly  superior  power 
of  the  English  in  their  majestic  ships,  with  their  long 
swords,  and  terrible  fire-arms,  and  all  the  develop¬ 
ments,  astounding  to  them,  of  a  higher  civilization. 
They  were  very  anxious  in  view  of  encroachments 
which  might  eventually  give  the  English  the  supre¬ 
macy  in  their  land, 

Powhatan,  the  king  of  the  powerful  tribe  who  had 
at  first  been  very  friendly  to  the  English,  summoned 
a  council  of  war  of  his  chieftains,  and  after  long 
deliberation,  it  was  decided  that  Captain  Smith  was 
too  powerful  a  man  tn  be  allowed  to  live,  and  that  he 


24  DANIEL  BOONE. 

must  die.  He  was  accordingly  led  out  to  execution, 
but  without  any  of  the  ordinary  accompaniments  of 
torture.  His  hands  were  bound  behind  him,  he  was 
laid  upon  the  ground,  and  his  head  was  placed  upon 
a  stone.  An  Indian  warrior  of  herculean  strength 
stood  by,  with  a  massive  club,  to  give  the  death 
blow  by  crushing  in  the  scull.  J ust  as  the  fatal  stroke 
was  about  to  descend,  a  beautiful  Indian  girl,  Poca¬ 
hontas,  the  daughter  of  the  king,  rushed  forward  and 
throwing  her  arms  around  the  neck  of  Captain  Smith, 
placed  her  head  upon  his.  The  Indians  regarded  this 
as  an  indication  from  the  Great  Spirit  that  the  life  of 
Captain  Smith  was  to  be  spared,  and  they  set  their 
prisoner  at  liberty,  who,  being  thus  miraculously 
rescued,  returned  to  Jamestown. 

By  his  wisdom  Captain  Smith  preserved  for  some 
time  friendly  relations  with  the  Indians,  and  the 
colony  rapidly  increased,  until  there  were  five  hundred 
Europeans  assembled  at  Jamestown.  Capt.  Smith 
being  severely  wounded  by  an  accidental  explosion  ol 
gunpowder,  returned  to  England  for  surgical  aid. 
The  colony,  thus  divested  of  his  vigorous  sway, 
ipeedliy  lapsed  into  anarchy.  The  bitter  hostility  oi 
the  Indians  was  aroused,  and,  within  a  few  months 
the  colony  dwindled  away  beneath  the  ravages  of 
sickness,  famine,  and  the  arrows  of  the  Indians,  to  but 
sixty  men.  Despair  reigned  in  all  hearts,  and  this 


THE  DISCOVERY  AND  SETTLEMENT  OF  AMERICA,  2$ 

starving  remnant  of  Europeans  was  preparing  to 
abandon  the  colony  and  return  to  the  Old  World,  when 
Lord  Delaware  arrived  with  several  ships  loaded  with 
provisions  and  with  a  reinforcement  of  hardy  laborers. 
Most  of  the  idle  and  profligate  young  men  who  had 
brought  such  calamity  upon  the  colony,  had  died. 
Those  who  remained  took  fresh  courage,  and  affairs 
began  to  be  more  prosperous. 

The  organization  of  the  colony  had  thus  far  beef? 
effected  with  very  little  regard  to  the  wants  of  human 
nature.  There  were  no  women  there.  Without  the 
honored  wife  there  cannot  be  the  happy  home  ;  and 
without  the  home  there  can  be  no  contentment.  To 
herd  together  five  hundred  men  upon  the  banks  of  a 
foreign  stream,  three  thousand  miles  from  their  native 
land,  without  women  and  children,  and  to  expect  them 
to  lay  the  foundation  of  a  happy  and  prosperous  colony, 
seems  almost  unpardonable  folly. 

Emigrants  began  to  arrive  with  their  families,  and 
in  the  year  1620,  one  hundred  and  fifty  poor,-  but 
virtuous  young  women,  were  induced  to  join  the 
Company.  Each  young  man  who  came  received  one 
hundred  acres  of  land.  Eagerly  these  young  planters, 
in  short  courtship,  selected  wives  from  such  of  these 
women  as  they  could  induce  to  lister^  to  them  Each 
man  paid  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  of  tobacco  to 
defray  the  expenses  of  his  wife’s  voyage.  But  the 


26 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


wickedness  of  man  will  everywhere,  and  under  aL 
circumstances,  make  fearful  development  of  its  power. 
Marty  desperadoes  joined  the  colony.  The  poor 
Indians  with  no  weapons  of  war  but  arrows,  clubs  and 
«tone  tomahawks,  wrere  quite  at  the  mercy  of  the 
English  with  their  keen  swords,  and  death-dealing 
muskets.  Fifteen  Europeans  could  easily  drive  several 
hundred  Indians  in  panic  over  the  plains.  Unprinci¬ 
pled  men  perpetrated  the  grossest  outrages  upon  the 
families  of  the  Indians,  often  insulting  the  proudest 
chiefs. 

The  colonists  were  taking  up  lands  in  all  directions. 
Before  their  unerring  rifles,  game  was  rapidly 
disappearing.  The  Indians  became  fully  awake  to 
their  danger.  The  chiefs  met  in  council,  and  & 
conspiracy  was  formed,  to  put,  at  an  appointed  hour, 
all  the  English  to  death,  every  man,  woman  and  child 
Every  house  was  marked.  Two  or  three  Indians  were 
appointed  to  make  the  massacre  sure  in  each  dwelling. 
They  were  to  spread  over  the  settlement,  enter  the 
widely  scattered  log-huts,  as  friends,  and  at  a  certain 
moment  were  to  spring  upon  their  unsuspecting 
victims,  and  kill  them  instantly.  The  plot  was 
fearfully  successful  in  all  the  dwellings  outside  the 
little  village  of  Jamestown.  In  one  hour,  on  the  22nd 
of  March,  1622,  three  hundred  and  forty-seven  men, 
women  and  children  were  massacred  in  cold  blood 


THE  DISCOVERY  AND  SETTLEMENT  OF  AMERICA,  2f 

l 

The  colony  would  have  been  annihilated,  but  for  a 
Christian  Indian  who,  just  before  the  massacre  com¬ 
menced,  gave  warning  to  a  friend  in  Jamestown.  The 
Europeans  rallied  with  their  fire-arms,  and  easily 
drove  off  their  foes,  and  then  commenced  the  unre¬ 
lenting  extermination  of  the  Indians.  An  arrow  can 
be  thrown  a  few  hundred  feet,  a  musket  ball  more  than 
as  many  yards.  The  Indians  were  consequently 
helpless.  The  English  shot  down  both  sexes,  young 
and  old,  as  mercilessly  as  if  they  had  been  wolves. 
They  seized  their  houses,  their  lands,  their  pleasant 
villages.  The  Indians  were  either  slain  or  driven  far 
away  from  the  houses  of  their  fathers,  into  the  remote 
wilderness. 

/ 

The  colony  now  increased  rapidly,  and  the  cabins 
of  the  emigrants  spread  farther  and  farther  over  the 
unoccupied  lands.  These  hardy  adventurers  seemed 
providentially  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  enterprise. 
Instead  of  clustering  together  for  the  pleasure  of 
society  and  for  mutual  protection,  they  were  ever 
pushing  into  the  wild  and  unknown  interior,  rearing 
their  cabins  on  the  banks  of  distant  streams,  and 
establishing  their  silent  homes  in  the  wildest  solitudes 
of  the  wilderness.  In  1660,  quite  a  number  of 
emigrants  moved  directly  south  from  Virginia.,  to  the 
river  Chowan,  in  what  is  now  South  Carolina,  where 
they  established  a  settlement  which  they  called 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


38 

Albermarle.  In  1670,  a  colony  from  England  esfc&b* 
lished  itself  at  Charleston,  South  Carolina,  Thus 
gradually  the  Atlantic  coast  became  fringed  with 
colonies,  extending  but  a  few  leagues  back  into  the 
country  frorr.  the  sea-shore,  while  the  vast  interior 
remained  an  unexplored  wilderness.  As  the  years 
roiled  on,  ship-loads  of  emigrants  arrived,  new  settle¬ 
ments  were  established,  colonial  States  rose  into  being, 
and,  though  there  were  many  sanguinary  conflicts 
with  the  Indians,  the  Europeans  were  always  in  the 
end  triumphant,  and  intelligence,  wealth,  and  laws  of 
civilization  were  rapidly  extended  along  the  Atlantic 
border  of  the  New  World. 

For  many  years  there  had  been  a  gradual  pressure 
of  the  colonists  towards  the  west,  steadily  encroaching 
upon  the  apparently  limitless  wilderness.  To  us  it 
seems  strange  that  they  did  not,  for  the  sake  of  pro¬ 
tection  against  the  Indians,  invariably  go  in  military 
bands.  But  generally  this  was  not  the  case.  The 
emigrants  seem  to  have  been  inspired  with  a  spirit  of 
almost  reckless  indifference  to  danger  ;  they  apparently 
loved  the  solitude  of  the  forest,  avoided  neighbors 
who  might  interfere  with  their  hunting  and  trapping, 
and  reared  their  humble  cottages  in  the  wildest  ravines 
of  the  mountains  and  upon  the  smooth  meadows 
which  border  the  most  solitary  streams ;  thus  gradually 
the  tide  of  emigration,  flowing  through  Indian  trails 


THE  DISCOVERY  AND  SETTLEMENT  OF  AMERICA.  2^ 

and  along  the  forest-covered  vines,  was  approaching 
the  base  of  the  Alleghany  mountains. 

But  little  was  known  of  the  character  of  the  bound¬ 
less  realms  beyond  the  ridges  of  this  gigantic  chain® 
Occasionally  a  wandering  Indian  who  had  chased 
his  game  over  those  remote  wilds,  would  endeavor  to 
draw  upon  the  sand,  with  a  stick,  a  map  of  the  country 
showing  the  flow  of  the  rivers,  the  line  of  the  moun¬ 
tains,  and  the  sweep  of  the  open  prairies.  The  Ohio 
was  then  called  the  Wabash.  This  magnificent  and 
beautiful  stream  is  formed  by  the  confluence  of  the 
Alleghany  and  the  Monongahela  rivers.  It  was  a 
long  voyage,  a  voyage  of  several  hundred  miles, 
following  the  windings  of  the  Monongahela  river  from 
its  rise  among  the  mountains  of  Western  Virginia  till, 
far  away  in  the  north,  it  met  the  flood  of  the  Alleghany, 
at  the  present  site  of  the  city  of  Pittsburg.  The 
voyage,  in  a  birch  canoe,  required,  in  the  figurative 
language  of  the  Indians,  “  two  paddles,  two  warriors 
and  three  moons.” 

The  Indians  very  correctly  described  the  Ohio,  or 
the  Wabash,  as  but  the  tributary  of  a  much  more 
majestic  stream,  far  away  in  the  west,  which,  pouring 
itj  flood  through  the  impenetrable  forest,  emptied  itself 
they  knew  not  where.  Of  the  magnitude  of  this 
distant  river,  the  Mississippi,  its  source,  rise  and 
termination,  they  could  give  no  intelligible  account 


30 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


They  endeavored  to  give  some  idea  of  the  amount 
of  game  to  be  found  in  those  remote  realms,  by  point® 
ing  to  the  leaves  of  the  forest  and  the  stars  in  the  sky. 

The  settlers  were  deeply  interested  and  often  much 
excited  by  the  glowing  descriptions  thus  given  them 
of  a  terrestrial  Eden,  where  life  would  seem  to  be  but 
one  uninterrupted  holiday.  Occasionally  an  adven¬ 
turous  French  or  Spanish  trader  would  cross  the 
towering  mountains  and  penetrate  the  vales  beyond. 
They  vied  with  the  Indians  in  their  account  of  the 
salubrity  of  the  climate,  the  brilliance  of  the  skies, 
the  grandeur  of  the  forests,  the  magnificence  of  the 
rivers,  the  marvelous  fertility  of  the  soil  and  the 
abundance  of  game. 

As  early  as  the  year  1690  a  trader  from  Virginia, 
by  the  namd  of  Doherty,  crossed  the  mountains, 
visited  the  friendly  Cherokee  nation,  within  the  present 
bounds  of  Georgia,  and  resided  with  the  natives 
several  years.  In  the  year  1730  an  enterprising  and 
intelligent  man  from  South  Carolina,  by  the  name  of 
Adair,  took  quite  an  extensive  tour  through  most  of 
the  villages  of  the  Cherokees,  and  also  visited  several 
tribes  south  and  west  of  them.  He  wrote  an  exceed¬ 
ingly  valuable  and  interesting  account  of  his  travels 
which  was  published  in  London. 

Influenced  by  these  examples  several  traders,  in  the 
year  1740,  went  from  Virginia  to  the  country  of  the 


THE  DISCOVERY  AND  SETTLEMENT  OF  AMERICA. 

Cherokees.  They  carried  on  pack  horses  goods  which 
the  Indians  valued,  and  which  they  exchanged  for 
furs,  which  were  sold  in  Europe  at  an  enormous  profit 

A  hatchet,  a  knife,  a  trap,  a  string  of  beads,  which 
could  be  bought  for  a  very  small  sum  in  the  Atlantic 
towns,  when  exhibited  beyond  the  mountains  to 
admiring  groups  in  the  wigwam  of  the  Indian,  could 
be  exchanged  for  furs  which  were  of  almost  priceless 
value  in  the  metropolitan  cities  of  the  Old  World. 
This  traffic  was  mutually  advantageous,  and  so  long 
as  peaceful  relations  existed  between  the  white  man 
and  the  Indian,  was  prosecuted  with  great  and  ever  in¬ 
creasing  vigor.  The  Indians  thus  obtained  the  steel 
trap,  the  keenly  cutting  ax,  and  the  rifle,  which  he 
soon  learned  to  use  with  unerring  aim.  He  was  thus 
able  in  a  day  to  obtain  more  gamethan  with  his  arrows 
and  his  clumsy  snares  he  could  secure  in  a  month. 

This  friendly  intercourse  was  in  all  respects  very 
desirable  ;  and  but  for  the  depravity  of  the  white  man 
it  might  have  continued  uninterrupted  for  generations. 
But  profligate  and  vagabond  adventurers  from  the 
settlements  defrauded  the  Indians,  insulted  their 
women,  and  often  committed  wanton  murder.  But 
it  would  seem  that  the  majority  of  the  traders  were 
honest  men.  Ramsay,  in  his  Annals  of  Tennessee, 
writes,  in  reference  to  this  traffic  : 

44  Other  advantages  resulted  from  it  to  the  whites 


32 


I  AN1EL  BOONE. 


They  became  thu9  acquainted  with  the  great  avenues 
leading  through  the  hunting  ground,  and  to  the 
occupied  country  of  the  neighboring  tribes — an  im^ 
portant  circumstance  in  the  condition  of  either  peacs 
or  war.  Further  the  traders  were  an  exact  ther¬ 
mometer  of  the  pacific  or  hostile  intention  and  feelings 
of  the  Indians  with  whom  they  traded.  Generally 
they  were  foreigners,  most  frequently  Scotchmen, 
who  had  not  been  long  in  the  country,  or  upon  the 
frontier ;  who,  having  experienced  none  of  the  cruelties, 
depredations  or  aggressions  of  the  Indians,  cherished 
none  of  the  resentment  and  spirit  of  retaliation  born 
with  and  everywhere  manifested  by  the  American 
settler. 

“  Thus  free  from  animosity  against  the  aborigines, 
the  trader  was  allowed  to  remain  in  the  village,  where 
he  traded,  unmolested,  even  where  its  warriors  were 
singing  the  war  song  or  brandishing  the  war 
club,  preparatory  to  an  invasion  or  massacre  of  the 
whites.  Timely  warning  was  thus  often  given  by  a 
returning  packman  to  a  feeble  and  unsuspecting 
settlement,  of  the  perfidy  and  cruelty  meditated 
against  it.” 

Game  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  Alleghame% 
hunted  down  alike  by  white  men  and  Indians,  soon 
became  scarce.  Adventurers  combining  the  characters 
of  traders  and  hunters  rapidly  multiplied.  Many  of 


THE  DISCOVERY  AND  SETTLEMENT  OF  AMERICA.  $3 

the  hunters  among  the  white  men  far  outstripped  the 
Indians  in  skill  and  energy.  Thus  some  degree  of 
jealousy  was  excited  on  the  part  of  the  savages.  They 
saw  how  rapidly  the  game  was  disappearing,  and 
these  thoughtful  men  began  to  be  anxious  for  the 
future.  With  no  love  for  agriculture  the  destruction 
of  the  game  was  their  ruin. 

As  early  as  the  year  1748  quite  a  party  of  gentle¬ 
men  explorers,  under  the  leadership  of  Doctor  Thomas 
Walker  of  Virginia,  crossed  a  range  of  the  Alleghany 
mountains,  which  the  Indians  called  Warioto,  but  to 
which  Doctor  Walker  gave  the  name  of  Cumberland, 
in  honor  of  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  who  was  then 
prime  minister  of  England.  Following  along  this 
chain  in  a  south-westerly  direction,  in  search  of  some 
pass  or  defile  by  which  they  could  cross  the  cliffc, 
they  came  to  the  remarkable  depression  in  the 
mountains  to  which  they  gave  the  name  of  Cumberland 
Gap.  On  the  western  side  of  the  range  they  found  a 
beautiful  mountain  stream,  rushing  far  away,  with 
ever  increasing  volume,  into  the  unknown  wilderness, 
which  the  Indians  called  Shawnee,  but  which  Doctor 
Walker’s  party  baptised  with  the  name  of  Cumberland 
River.  These  names  have  adhered  to  the  localities 
upon  which  they  were  thus  placed. 

In  1756  a  feeble  attempt  was  made  to  establish  a 
colony  upon  the  Tennessee  river,  at  a  spot  which  was 


34 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


called  London.  This  was  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  in  advance  of  any  white  settlement.  Eight 
years  passed,  and  by  the  ravages  of  war  the  little 
settlement  went  up  in  flame  and  smoke.  As  the 
years  rapidly  came  and  went  there  were  occasional 
bursts  of  the  tempests  of  war  ;  again  there  would  be 
a  short  lull  and  blessed  peace  would  come  with  its 
prosperity  and  joy. 

“  In  the  year  1760,  Doctor  Walker  again  passed 
over  Clinch  and  Powell's  rivers  on  a  tour  of  exploration, 
into  what  is  now  Kentucky.  The  Cherokees  were 
then  at  peace  with  the  whites,  and  hunters  from  the 
back  settlements  began,  with  safety,  to  penetrate 
deeper  and  further  into  the  wilderness  of  Tennessee. 
Several  of  them,  chiefly  from  Virginia,  hearing  of  the 
abundance  of  game  with  which  the  woods  were  stocked, 
and  allured  by  the  prospect  of  gain  which  might  be 
drawn  from  this  source,  formed  themselves  into  a 
company  composed  of  Wallen,  Seagys,  Blevins,  Cox 
and  fifteen  others,  and  came  into  the  valley,  since 
known  as  Carter’s  Valley,  in  Hawkin’s  county,  Ten¬ 
nessee.  They  hunted  eighteen  months  upon  Clinch 
and  Powell  rivers.  Wallen’s  Creek  and  Wallen’s  Ridge 
received  their  name  from  the  leader  of  the  company  ; 
as  also  did  Wallen’s  Station  which  they  erected  in  the 
Lee  county,  Virginia. 

M  They  penetrated  as  far  north  as  Laurel  Mountain, 


THE  DISCOVERY  AND  SETTLEMENT  OF  AMERICA.  35 


in  Kentucky,  where  they  terminated  their  journey, 
having  met  with  a  body  of  Indians  whom  they 
supposed  to  be  Shawnees.  At  the  head  of  one  of  the 
companies  that  visited  the  West,  this  year,  came  Daniel 
Boone  from  the  Yadkin,  in  North  Carolina,  and 
travelled  with  them  as  low  as  the  place  where 
Abingdon  now  stands,  and  there  left  them.” 

This  is  the  first  time  the  advent  of  Daniel  Boone  to 
the  western  wilds  has  been  mentioned  by  historians 
or  by  the  several  biographers  of  that  distinguished 
pioneer  and  hunter.  There  is  reason  however  to 
believe  that  he  hunted  upon  Watauga  some  time 
earlier  than  this. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


D&mkl  Boone ,  his  Parentage ,  and  early  Adventures. 


fri&ls  of  the  Colonists. — George  Boone  and  his  home. — Squire  Bmraa, 
— Birth  and  character  of  Daniel  Boone. — His  limited  education. 
—A  pioneer’s  camp. — A  log  house  and  furnishings. — Annoyance 
©f  Boone  on  the  arrival  of  Scoteh  emigrants. — His  longings  foi 
adventure. — Camp  meetings. — Frontier  life. — Sports. — Squirrel 
hunting. — Snulllng  the  candle. 


It  was  but  a  narrow  fringe  upon  the  sea  coast  of 
North  America,  which  was  thus  far  occupied  by  the 
European  emigrants.  Even  this  edge  of  the  continent 
was  so  vast  in  its  extent,  from  the  southern  capes  of 
Florida  to  the  gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  that  these  colonial 
settlements  were  far  separated  from  each  other.  They 
constituted  but  little  dots  in  the  interminable  forest : 
the  surges  of  the  Atlantic  beating  upon  their  eastern 
shores,  and  the  majestic  wilderness  sweeping  in  its 
sublime  solitude  behind  them  on  the  west.  Here  the 
painted  Indians  pursued  their  game,  while  watching 
anxiously  the  encroachments  of  the  pale  faces.  The 
ay  of  the  panther,  the  growling  of  the  bear,  and  the 
howling  of  the  wolf,  were  music  to  the  settlers 
compared  with  the  war-hoop  of  the  savage,  whicu 
often  startled  the  inmates  of  the  lonely  cabins,  and 


DANIEL  BOONE,  HIS  EARLY  ADVENTURES,  37 

consigned  them  to  that  sleep  from  which  there  is  no 
earthly  waking.  The  Indians  weie  generally  hostile, 
and  being  untutored  savages,  they  were  as  merciless 
as  demons  in  their  revenge*  The  mind  recoils  from 
the  contemplation  of  the  tortures  to  which  they  often 
exposed  their  captives.  And  one  cannot  but  wondei 
that  the  Almighty  Father  could  have  allowed  such 
agony  to  be  inflicted  upon  any  of  His  creatures. 

Notwithstanding  the  general  desire  of  the  colonial 
authorities  to  treat  the  Indians  with  justice  and 
kindness,  there  were  unprincipled  adventurers  crowd¬ 
ing  all  the  colonies,  whose  wickedness  no  laws  could 
restrain.  They  robbed  the  Indians,  insulted  their 
families,  and  inflicted  upon  them  outrages  which 
goaded  the  poor  savages  to  desperation.  In  their 
unintelligent  vengeance  they  could  make  no  distinc¬ 
tion  between  the  innocent  and  the  guilty. 

On  the  ioth  of  October,  1757,  a  vessel  containing 
a  number  of  emigrants  arrived  at  Philadelphia,  a 
small  but  flourishing  settlement  upon  the  banks  of 
the  Delaware.  Among  the  passengers  there  was  a 
man  named  George  Boone,  with  his  wife  and  eleven 
children,  nine  sons  and  two  daughters.  He  had  come 
from  Exeter,  England,  and  was  lured  to  the  New 
World  by  the  cheapness  of  land.  He  had  sufficient 
property  to  enable  him  to  furnish  all  his  sons  with 
ample  farms  in  America.  The  Delaware,  above 


3» 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


Philadelphia,  was  at  that  time  a  silent  stream,  flowing 
sublimely  through  the  almost  unbroken  forest.  Here 
and  there,  a  bold  settler  had  felled  the  trees,  and  in 
the  clearing  had  reared  his  log  hut,  upon  the  river 
banks.  Occasionally  the  birch  canoe  of  an  Indian 
hunter  was  seen  passing  rapidly  from  cove  to  cove, 
and  occasionally  a  little  cluster  of  Indian  wigwams 
graced  some  picturesque  and  sunny  exposure,  for  the 
Indians  manifested  much  taste  in  the  location  of  their 
villages. 

George  Boone  ascended  this  solitary  river  about 
twenty  miles  above  Philadelphia,  where  he  purchased 
upon  its  banks  an  extensive  territory,  consisting  of 
several  hundred  acres.  It  was  near  the  present  city 
of  Bristol,  in  what  is  now  called  Buck’s  County.  To 
this  tract,  sufficiently  large  for  a  township,  he  gave 
the  name  of  Exeter,  in  memory  of  the  home  he  had 
left  in  England.  Here,  aided  by  the  strong  arms  of 
his  boys,  he  reared  a  commodious  log  cabin.  It  must 
have  been  an  attractive  and  a  happy  home.  The 
climate  was  delightful,  the  soil  fertile,  supplying  him, 
with  but  little  culture,  with  an  ample  supply  of  corn, 
and  the  most  nutritious  vegetables.  Before  his  door 
rolled  the  broad  expanse  of  the  Delaware,  abounding 
with  fish  of  delicious  flavor.  His  boys  with  hook  and 
line  could  at  any  time,  in  a  few  moments,  supply  the 
table  with  a  nice  repast.  With  the  unerring  rifle* 


HIS  EARLY  ADVENTURES.  39 

they  could  always  procure  game  in  great  variety  and 
abundance. 

The  Indians,  won  by  the  humanity  of  William  Penn, 
were  friendly,  and  their  occasional  visits  to  the  cabin 
contributed  to  the  enjoyment  of  its  inmates.  On  the 
whole  a  more  favored  lot  in  life  could  not  well  be 
imagined.  There  was  unquestionably  far  more  happi¬ 
ness  in  this  log  cabin  of  the  settler,  on  the  silent 
waters  of  the  Delaware,  than  could  be  found  in  any  of 
the  castles  or  palaces  of  England,  France,  or  Spain. 

George  Boone  had  one  son  on  whom  he  conferred 
the  singular  name  of  Squire.  His  son  married  a  young 
woman  in  the  neighborhood  by  the  name  of  Sarah 
Morgan,  and  surrounded  by  his  brothers  and  sisters, 
he  raised  his  humble  home  in  the  beautiful  township 
which  his  father  had  purchased.  Before  leaving  En¬ 
gland  the  family,  religiously  inclined,  had  accepted 
the  Episcopal  form  of  Christian  worship.  But  in  the 

New  World,  far  removed  from  the  institutions  of  the 

( 

Gospel,  and  allured  by  the  noble  character  and  influ¬ 
ence  of  William  Penn,  they  enrolled  themselves  in  the 
Society  of  Friends.  In  the  record  of  the  monthly 
meetings  of  this  society,  we  find  it  stated  that  Georg® 
Boone  was  received  to  its  communion  on  the  thirty- 
first  day  of  tenth  month,  in  the  year  1717*  It  is  also 
recorded  that  his  son  Squire  Boone  was  married  to 
Sarah  Morgan,  oa  the  twenty-third  day  of  seventh 


4© 


DANIEL  BOONE, 


month,  1720.  The  records  of  the  meetings  also  shew 
the  number  of  their  children,  and  the  periods  cf  their 
birth. 

By  this  it  appears  that  their  son  Daniel,  the  subject 
of  this  memoir,  was  born  on  the  twenty-second  day  ot 
eighth  month,  1734.  It  seems  that  Squire  Boone  be¬ 
came  involved  in  difficulties  with  the  Society  of  Friends, 
for  allowing  one  of  his  sons  to  marry  out  of  meeting. 
He  was  therefore  disowned,  and  perhaps  on  this 
account,  he  subsequently  removed  his  residence  tc 
NorthCarolina,  as  we  shall  hereafter  show.  His  son 
Daniel,  from  earliest  childhood,  developed  a  peculiar 
and  remarkably  interesting  character.  He  was  silent, 
thoughtful,  of  pensive  temperament,  yet  far  from 
gloomy,  never  elated,  never  depressed.  He  exhibited 
from  his  earliest  years  such  an  insensibility  to  danger, 
as  to  attract  the  attention  of  all  who  knew  him. 
Though  affectionate  and  genial  in  disposition,  never 
morose  or  moody,  he  still  loved  solitude,  and  seemed 
never  so  happy  as  when  entirely  alone.  His  father 
remained  in  his  home  upon  the  Delaware  until  Daniel 
was  about  ten  years  of  age. 

Various  stories  are  related  of  his  adventures  Is 
these  his  early  years,  which  may  or  may  not  be  en¬ 
tirely  authentic  It  makes  but  little  difference.  These 
anecdotes  if  only  founded  on  facts,  show  at  least  the 
estimation  in  which  he  was  regarded,  and  the  iinpres* 


HIS  EARLY  ADVENTURES.  41 

Mon  which  his  character  produced  in  these  days  of 
childhood.  Before  he  was  ten  years  old  he  would 
take  his  rifle  and  plunge  boldly  into  the  depths  of 
the  illimitable  forest  He  seemed,  by  instinct,  pos¬ 
sessed  of  the  skill  of  the  most  experienced  hunter,  so 
that  he  never  became  bewildered,  or  in  danger  of 
being  lost.  There  were  panthers,  bears  and  wolves 
in  those  forests,  but  of  them  he  seemed  not  to  have 
the  slightest  fear.  His  skill  as  a  marksman  became 
quite  unerring.  Not  only  racoons,  squirrels,  partridges 
and  other  such  small  game  were  the  result  of  his 
hunting  expeditions,  but  occasionally  even  the  fierce 
panther  fell  before  his  rifle  ball.  From  such  frequent 
expeditions  he  would  return  silent  and  tranquil,  with 
never  a  word  of  boasting  in  view  of  exploits  of  which 
a  veteran  hunter  might  be  proud. 

Indeed  his  love  of  solitude  was  so  great,  that  he 
reared  for  himself  a  little  cabin  in  the  wilderness, 
three  miles  back  from  the  settlement  Here  he  would 
go  all  alone  without  even  a  dog  for  companion,  his 
trusty  rifle  his  only  protection.  At  his  camp  fire,  on 
the  point  of  his  ramrod,  he  would  cook  the  game 
which  he  obtained  in  abundance,  and  upon  his  bed 
of  leaves  would  sleep  in  sweetest  enjoyment,  lulled 
by  the  wind  through  the  tree-tops,  and  by  the  cry 
of  the  night  bird  and  of  the  wild  beasts  roaming 
around. 


42 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


The  education  of  young  Boone  was  necessarily  very 
defective.  There  were  no  schools  then  established  in 
those  remote  districts  of  leg  cabins.  But  it  so  happened 
that  an  Irishman  of  some  little  education  strolled 
into  that  neighborhood,  and  Squire  Boone  engaged 
him  to  teach,  for  a  few  months,  his  children  and 
those  of  some  others  of  the  adjacent  settlers.  These 
hardy  emigrants  met  with  their  axes  in  a  central 
point  in  the  wilderness,  and  in  a  few  hours  constructed 
a  rude  hut  of  logs  for  a  school-house.  Here  young 
Boone  was  taught  to  read,  and  perhaps  to  write. 
This  was  about  all  the  education  he  ever  received. 
Probably  the  confinement  of  the  school-room  was 
to  him  unendurable.  The  forest  was  his  congenial 
home,  hunting  the  business  of  his  life. 

Though  thus  uninstructed  in  the  learning  of  books, 
there  were  other  parts  of  practical  education,  of 
infinitely  more  importance  to  him,  in  which  he  became 
an  adept.  His  native  strength  of  mind,  keen  habits 
of  observation,  and  imperturbable  tranquility  under 
whatever  perils  or  reverses,  gave  him  skill  in  the  life 
upon  which  he  was  to  enter,  which  the  teachings  of 
books  alone  could  not  confer.  No  marksman  could 
surpass  him  in  the  dexterity  with  which  with  his  bullet 
he  would  strike  the  head  of  a  nail,  at  the  distance  of 
many  yards.  No  Indian  hunter  or  warrior  could 
with  more  sagacity  trace  his  steps  through  the  path- 


HIS  EARLY  ADVENTURES. 


43 


less  forest;  detect  the  footsteps  of  a  retreating  foe,  o? 
search  out  the  hiding  place  of  the  panther  or  the  bear, 
In  these  hunting  excursions  the  youthful  frame  of 
Daniel  became  inured  to  privation,  hardship,  endu¬ 
rance  Taught  to  rely  upon  his  own  resources,  he  knew 
not  what  it  was  to  be  lonely,  for  an  hour.  In  the  darkest 
night  and  in  the  remotest  wilderness,  when  the  storm 
raged  most  fiercely,  although  but  a  child  he  felt 
peaceful,  happy,  and  entirely  at  home. 

About  the  year  1748  (the  date  is  somewhat  uncer¬ 
tain),  Squire  Boone,  with  his  family,  emigrated  seven 

hundred  miles  farther  south  and  west  to  a  place  called 

* 

Holman’s  Ford  on  the  Yadkin  river,  in  North  Carolina. 
The  Yadkin  is  a  small  stream  in  the  north-west  part 
of  the  State.  A  hundred  years  ago  this  was  indeed  a 
howling  wilderness.  It  is  difficult  to  imagine  what 
could  have  induced  the  father  of  a  family  to  abandon 
the  comparatively  safe  and  prosperous  settlements  on 
the  banks  of  the  Delaware,  to  plunge  into  the  wilder¬ 
ness  of  these  pathless  solitudes,  several  hundred  miles 
from  the  Atlantic  coast.  Daniel  was  then  about 
sixteen  years  of  age. 

Of  the  incidents  of  their  long  journey  through  the 
wood — on  foot,  with  possibly  a  few  pack  horses,  for 
there  were  no  wagon-roads  whatever — we  have  no 
record.  The  journey  must  probably  have  occupied 
several  weeks,  occasionally  cheered  by  sunshine,  and 


44 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


again  drenched  by  storms.  There  were  nine  children 
In  the  family.  At  the  close  of  the  weary  pilgrimage 
of  a  day,  through  such  narrow  trails  as  that  which  the 
Indian  or  the  buffalo  had  made  through  the  forest,  or 
over  the  prairies,  they  were  compelled  to  build  a  cabin 
at  night,  with  logs  and  the  bark  of  trees  to  shelter 
them  from  the  wind  and  rain,  and  at  the  camp-fire  to 
cook  the  game  which  they  had  shot  during  the  day. 
We  can  imagine  that  this  journey  must  have  been  a 
season  of  unspeakable  delight  to  Daniel  Boone. 
Alike  at  home  with  the  rifle  and  the  hatchet,  never 
for  a  moment  bewildered,  or  losing  his  self-possession, 
he  could,  even  unaided,  at  any  hour,  rear  a  sheltering 
hut  for  his  mother  and  his  sisters,  before  which  the 
camp-fire  would  blaze  cheerily,  and  their  hunger 
would  be  appeased  by  the  choicest  viands  from  the 
game  which  his  rifle  had  procured. 

The  spirit  of  adventure  is  so  strong  in  most  human 
hearts  which  luxurious  indulgence  has  not  enervated, 
that  it  is  not  improbable  that  this  family  enjoyed  far 
more  in  this  romantic  excursion  through  an  unex¬ 
plored  wilderness,  than  those  now  enjoy  who  in  a  few 
hours  traverse  the  same  distance  in  the  smooth  rolling 
rail-cars.  Indeed  fancy  can  paint  many  scenes  of 
picturesque  beauty  which  we  know  that  the  reality 
must  have  surpassed. 

It  is  the  close  of  a  lovely  day.  A  gentle  breeze 


HIS  EARLY  ADVENTURES. 


sweeps  through  the  tree  tops  from  the  north-west 
The  trail  through  the  day  has  led  along  the  banks  of 
a  crystal  mountain  stream,  sparkling  with  trout.  The 
path  is  smooth  for  the  moccasined  feet.  The  limbs* 
inured  to  action,  experienced  no  weariness.  The  axes 
of  the  father  and  the  sons  speedily  construct  a  camp, 
open  to  the  south  and  perfectly  sheltered  on  the  roof 
and  on  the  sides  by  the  bark  of  trees.  The  busy 
fingers  of  the  daughters  have  in  the  meantime  spread 
over  the  floor  a  soft  and  fragrant  carpet  of  evergreen 
twigs.  The  mother  is  preparing  supper,  of  trout 
from  the  stream,  and  the  fattest  of  wild  turkeys  or 
partridges,  or  tender  cuts  of  venison,  which  the  rifles 
of  her  husband  or  sons  have  procured.  Voracious 
appetites  render  the  repast  far  more  palatable  than 
the  choicest  viands  which  were  ever  spread  in  the 
banqueting  halls  ef  Versailles  or  Windsor.  Water- 
fowl  of  gorgeous  plumage  sport  in  the  stream, 
unintimidated  by  the  approach  of  man.  The  plaintive 
songs  of  forest-birds  float  in  the  evening  air.  On  the 
opposite  side  of  the  stream,  herds  of  deer  and  buffalo 
crop  the  rich  herbage  of  the  prairie,  which  extends 
far  away,  till  it  is  lost  in  the  horizon  of  the  south. 
Daniel  retires  from  the  converse  of  the  cabin  to  an 
adjoining  eminence,  where  silently  and  rapturously 
he  gazes  upon  the  scene  of  loveliness  spread  out 
before  him. 


4 $ 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


Such  incidents  must  often  have  occurred.  Even 
in  the  dark  and  tempestuous  night,  with  the  storm 
surging  through  the  tree  tops,  and  the  rain  descending 
in  floods,  in  their  sheltered  camp,  illumined  by  the 
flames  of  their  night  fire,  souls  capable  of  appreciating 
the  sublimity  of  such  scenes  must  have  experienced 
exquisite  delight.  It  is  pleasant  to  reflect,  that  the 
poor  man  in  his  humble  cabin  may  often  be  the 
recipient  of  much  more  happiness  than  the  lord  finds 
in  his  castle,  or  the  king  in  his  palace. 

No  details  are  given  respecting  the  arrival  of  this 
family  on  the  banks  of  the  Yadkin,  or  of  their  habits 
of  life  while  there.  We  simply  know  that  they  were 
far  away  in  the  untrodden  wilderness,  in  the  remotest 
frontiers  of  civilization.  Bands  of  Indians  were  roving 
around  them,  but  even  if  hostile,  so  long  as  they  had 
only  bows  and  arrows,  the  settler  in  his  log-hut,  which 
was  a  fortress,  and  with  his  death-dealing  rifle,  was 
comparatively  safe. 

Here  the  family  dwelt  for  several  years,  probably 
in  the  enjoyment  of  abundance,  and  with  ever- 
increasing  comforts.  The  virgin  soil,  even  poorly 
tilled,  furnished  them  with  the  corn  and  the  vegetables 
they  required,  while  the  forests  supplied  the  table 
with  game.  Thus  the  family,  occupying  the  double 
position  of  the  farmer  and  the  hunter,  lived  in  the 
enjoyment  of  all  the  luxuries  which  both  of  those 


HIS  EARLY  ADVENTURES. 


47 


callings  could  afford.  Here  Daniel  Boons  grew  up  to 
manhood.  His  love  of  solitude  and  of  nature  led 
him  on  long  hunting  excursions,  from  which  he  often 
returned  laden  with  furs.  The  silence  of  the  wilder¬ 
ness  he  brought  back  with  him  to  his  home.  And 
though  his  placid  features  ever  bore  a  smile,  he  had 
but  few  words  to  interchange  with  neighbors  or  friends. 
He  was  a  man  of  affectionate,  but  not  of  passionate 
nature.  It  would  seem  that  other  emigrants  were 
lured  to  the  banks  of  the  Yadkin,  for  here,  after  a  few 
years,  young  Boone  fell  in  love  with  the  daughter  of 
his  father’s  neighbor,  and  that  daughter,  Rebecca 
Bryan,  became  his  bride.  He  thus  left  his  father’s 
home,  and,  with  his  axe,  speedily  erected  for  himself 
and  wife  a  cabin,  we  may  presume  at  some  distance 
from  sight  or  sound  of  any  other  house.  There  “  from 
noise  and  tumult  far/*  Daniel  Boone  established 
himself  in  the  life  of  solitude,  to  which  he  was 
accustomed  and  which  he  enjoyed.  It  appears  that 
his  marriage  took  place  about  the  year  1755.  The 
tide  of  emigration  was  still  flowing  in  an  uninterrupted 
stream  towards  the  west.  The  population  was  in¬ 
creasing  throughout  this  remote  region,  and  the  axe  of 
the  settler  began  to  be  heard  on  the  streams  tributary 
to  the  Yadkin. 

Daniel  Boone  became  restless.  He  loved  the 
wilderness  and  its  solitude,  and  was  annoyed  by  the 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


48 

approach  of  human  habitations,  bringing  to  him 
customs  with  which  he  was  unacquainted,  and  expos¬ 
ing  him  to  embarrassments  from  which  he  would 
gladly  escape.  The  mode  of  life  practiced  by  those 
early  settlers  in  the  wilderness  is  well  known.  The 
log-house  usually  consisted  of  but  one  room,  with  a 
fire-place  of  stones  at  the  end.  These  houses  were 
often  very  warm  and  comfortable,  presenting  in  the 
interior,  with  a  bright  fire  blazing  on  the  hearth,  a 
very  cheerful  aspect  Their  construction  was  usually 
as  follows  :  Straight,  smooth  logs  about  a  foot  in 
diameter,  cut  of  the  proper  length,  and  so  notched 
at  the  ends  as  to  be  held  very  firmly  together,  were 
thus  placed  one  above  the  other  to  the  height  of  about 
ten  feet.  The  interstices  were  filled  with  clay,  which 
soon  hardened,  rendering  the  walls  comparatively 
smooth,  and  alike  impervious  to  wind  or  rain.  Other 
logs  of  straight  fiber  were  split  into  clap-boards,  one 
or  two  inches  in  thickness,  with  which  they  covered 
the  roof.  If  suitable  wood  for  this  purpose  could  not 
be  found,  the  bark  of  trees  was  used,  with  an  occasional 
thatching  of  the  long  grass  of  the  prairies.  Logs 
about  eighteen  inches  in  diameter  were  selected  for 
the  floor.  These  were  easily  split  in  halves,  and  with 
the  smooth  surface  uppermost  joined  closely  together 
by  a  slight  trimming  with  axe  or  adze,  piesented  8 
very  firm  and  even  attractive  surface  for  the  feet 


HIS  EARLY  ADVENTURES. 


In  the  centre  of  the  room,  four  augur  holes  were 
bored  in  the  logs,  about  three  inches  in  diameter. 
Stakes  were  driven  firmly  into  these  holes,  upon 
which  were  placed  two  pieces  of  timber,  with  the  upper 
surfaces  hewn  smooth,  thus  constructing  a  table.  In 
one  corner  of  the  cabin,  four  stakes  were  driven  in  a 
similar  way,  about  eighteen  inches  high,  with  forked 
tops.  Upon  these  two  saplings  were  laid  with  smooth 
pieces  of  bark  stretched  across.  These  were  covered 
with  grass  or  dried  leaves,  upon  which  was  placed, 
with  the  fur  upwards,  the  well-tanned  skin  of  the 
buffalo  or  the  bear.  Thus  quite  a  luxurious  bed  was 
constructed,  upon  which  there  was  often  enjoyed  as 
sweet  sleep  as  perhaps  is  ever  found  on  beds  of  down. 
In  another  corner,  some  rude  shelves  were  placed, 
upon  which  appeared  a  few  articles  of  tin  and  iron¬ 
ware.  Upon  some  buck  horns  over  the  door  was 
always  placed  the  rifle,  ever  loaded  and  ready  for  use. 

A  very  intelligent  emigrant,  Dr.  Doddridge,  gives 
the  following  graphic  account  of  his  experience  in  such 
a  log-cabin  as  we  have  described,  in  the  remote 
wilderness.  When  he  was  but  a  child,  his  father,  with 
a  small  family,  had  penetrated  these  trackless  wilds, 
and  in  the  midst  of  their  sublime  solitudes  had  reared 
bis  lonely  cabin.  He  writes  : 

“  My  father’s  family  was  small  and  he  took  us  ail 

with  him.  The  Indian  meal  which  he  brought  was 

5 


50 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


expended  six  weeks  too  soon,  so  that  for  that  length 
of  time  we  had  to  live  without  bread.  The  lean 
venison  and  the  breast  of  wild  turkeys,  we  were  taught 
to  call  bread.  I  remember  how  narrowly  we  children 
watched  the  growth  of  the  potato  tops,  pumpkin,  and 
squash  vines,  hoping  from  day  to  day  to  get  something 
to  answer  in  the  place  of  bread.  How  delicious  was  the 
taste  of  the  young  potatoes,  when  we  got  them  ! 
What  a  jubilee  when  we  were  permitted  to  pull  the 
young  corn  for  roasting  ears  !  Still  more  so  when 
it  had  acquired  sufficient  hardness  to  be  made  into 
johnny  cake  by  the  aid  of  a  tin  grater.  The  furniture 
of  the  table  consisted  of  a  few  pewter  dishes,  plates 
and  spoons,  but  mostly  of  wooden  bowls  and  trenches 
and  noggins.  If  these  last  were  scarce,  gourds  and 
hard  shell  squashes  made  up  the  deficiency. 

"  I  well  remember  the  first  time  I  ever  saw  a  tea 
cup  and  saucer.  My  mother  died  when  I  was  six  oi 
seven  years  of  age.  My  father  then  sent  me  to 
Maryland  to  go  to  school.  At  Bedford,  the  tavern 
at  which  my  uncle  put  up  was  a  stone  house,  and  to 
make  the  changes  still  more  complete,  it  was  plastered 
on  the  inside  both  as  to  the  walls  and  ceiling.  On 
going  into  the  dining-room,  I  was  strurk  with 
astonishment  at  the  appearance  of  the  house.  I  had 
no  idea  that  there  was  any  house  in  the  world  that 
was  not  built  of  logs.  But  here  I  looked  around  and 


HIS  EARLY  ADVENTURES. 


could  see  no  logs,  and  above  I  could  see  no  joists. 
Whether  such  a  thing  had  been  made  by  the  hands  of 
man,  or  had  grown  so  of  itself,  I  could  not  conjecture, 
I  had  not  the  courage  to  inquire  anything  about  it 
When  supper  came  on,  my  confusion  was  worse 
confounded  :  A  little  cup  stood  in  a  bigger  one  with 
some  brownish-looking  stuff  in  it,  which  was  neither 
milk,  hominy,  nor  broth.  What  to  do  with  these 
little  cups,  and  the  spoons  belonging  to  them,  I  could 
not  tell.  But  I  was  afraid  to  ask  anything  concerning 
the  use  of  them.” 

Daniel  Boone  could  see  from  the  door  of  his  cabin, 
far  away  in  the  west,  the  majestic  ridge  of  the 
Alleghany  mountains,  many  of  the  peaks  rising  six 
thousand  feet  into  the  clouds.  This  almost  impassable 
wall,  which  nature  had  reared,  extended  for  hundreds 
of  leagues,  along  the  Atlantic  coast,  parallel  with  that 
coast,  and  at  an  average  distance  of  one  hundred  and 
thirty  miles  from  the  ocean.  It  divides  the  waters 
which  flow  into  the  Atlantic,  from  those  which  run 
into  the  Mississippi.  The  great  chain  consists  of  many 
spurs,  from  fifty  to  two  hundred  miles  in  breadth,  and 
receives  in  different  localities,  different  names,  such  as 
the  Cumberland  mountains,  the  Blue  Ridge,  etc. 

But  few  white  men  had  ever  as  yet  ascended  these 
summits,  to  cast  a  glance  at  the  vast  wilderness 
beyond.  The  wildest  stories  were  told  around  the 


$2 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


cabin  fires,  of  these  unexplored  realms,— of  the  Indian 
tribes  wandering  there ;  of  the  forests  filled  with 
game  ;  of  the  rivers  alive  with  fishes  ;  of  the  fertile 
plains,  the  floral  beauty,  the  abounding  fruit,  and 
the  almost  celestial  clime.  These  stories  were  brought 
to  the  settlers  in  the  broken  language  of  the  Indians, 
and  in  the  exaggerated  tales  of  hunters,  who  professed 
that  in  the  chase  they  had,  from  some  Pisgah’s  summit, 
gazed  upon  the  splendors  of  this  Canaan  of  the  New 
Wr  rid 

Thus  far,  the  settlers  had  rested  contented  with 
the  sea-bord  region  east  of  the  Alleghanies.  They 
had  made  no  attempt  to  climb  the  summits  of  this 
great  barrier,  or  to  penetrate  its  gloomy  defiles.  A 
dense  forest  covered  alike  the  mountain  cliff  and  the 
rocky  gorge.  Indeed  there  were  but  few  points  at 
which  even  the  foot  of  the  hunter  could  pass  this 
chain. 

While  Daniel  Boone  was  residing  in  the  congenial 
solitude  of  his  hut,  on  the  banks  of  the  Yadkin ;  with 
the  grandeur  of  the  wilderness  around  him  in  which 
his  soul  delighted  ;  with  his  table  luxuriously  spread 
according  to  his  tastes — with  venison,  bear’s  meat,  fat 
turkeys,  chickens  from  the  prairie,  and  vegetables 
from  his  garden ;  with  comfortable  clothing  of  deer¬ 
skin,  and  such  cloths  as  pedlars  occasionally  brought 
to  his  cabin  door  in  exchange  for  furs,  he  was  quite 


HIS  EARLY  ADVENTURES. 


S3 


annoyed  by  the  arrival  of  a  number  of  Scotch 
families  in  his  region,  bringing  with  them  customs 
and  fashions  which  to  Daniel  Boone  were  very 
annoying.  They  began  to  cut  down  the  glorious  old 
forest,  to  break  up  the  green  sward  of  the  prairies,  to 
rear  more  ambitious  houses  than  the  humble  home  of 
the  pioneer ;  they  assumed  airs  of  superiority,  intro¬ 
duced  more  artificial  styles  of  living,  and  brought  ia 
the  hitherto  unknown  vexation  of  taxes. 

One  can  easily  imagine  how  restive  such  a  man  as 
Boone  must  have  been  under  such  innovations.  The 
sheriff  made  his  appearance  in  the  lonely  hut ;  the 
collection  of  the  taxes  was  enforced  by  suits  at  law. 
Even  Daniel  Boone’s  title  to  his  lands  wras  called  in 
question  ;  some  of  the  new  comers  claiming  that  then 
more  legal  grants  lapped  over  upon  the  boundaries 
which  Boone  claimed.  Under  these  circumstances 
our  pioneer  became  very  anxious  to  escape  from  these 
vexations  by  an  emigration  farther  into  the  wilder, 
ness.  Day  after  day  he  cast  wistful  glances  upon  thi 
vast  mountain  barrier  piercing  the  clouds  in  the  dis¬ 
tant  horizon.  Beyond  that  barrier,  neither  the  shesift 
nor  the  tax-gatherer  were  to  be  encountered.  HI® 
soul,  naturally  incapable  of  fear,  experienced  no  dread 
in  apprehension  of  Indian  hostilities,  or  the  ferocity 
of  wild  beasts.  Even  the  idea  of  the  journey  through 
these  sublime  solitudes  of  an  unexplored  region,  waf 


54 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


far  more  attractive  to  him  than  the  tour  of  Europe  to 
a  sated  millionaire. 

Two  or  three  horses  would  convey  upon  their  backs 
all  their  household  goods.  There  were  Indian  trails 
and  streets,  so  called,  made  by  the  buffaloes,  as  in 
large  numbers  they  had  followed  each  other,  selecting 
by  a  wonderful  instinct  their  path  from  one  feeding 
ground  to  another,  through  cane-brakes,  around 
morasses,  and  over  mountains  through  the  most  ac¬ 
cessible  defiles.  Along  these  trails  or  streets,  Boone 
could  take  his  peaceful  route  without  any  danger  of 
mistaking  his  way.  Every  mile  would  be  opening  to 
him  new  scenes  of  grandeur  and  beauty.  Should 
night  come,  or  a  storm  set  in,  a  few  hours’  labor  with 
his  axe  would  rear  for  him  not  only  a  comfortable, 
but  a  cheerful  tent  with  its  warm  and  sheltered  in¬ 
terior,  with  the  camp-fire  crackling  and  blazing  before 
it.  His  wife  and  his  children  not  only  afforded  him 
all  the  society  his  peculiar  nature  craved,  but  each 
one  was  a  helper,  knowing  exactly  what  to  do  in  this 
picnic  excursion  through  the  wilderness.  Wherever 
he  might  stop  for  the  night  or  for  a  few  days,  his  un¬ 
erring  rifle  procured  for  him  viands  which  might 
tempt  the  appetite  of  the  epicure.  There  are  many 
even  in  civilized  life  who  will  confess,  that  for  them, 
such  an  excursion  would  present  attractions  such  as 
are  not  to  be  found  in  the  banqueting  halls  at 


HIS  EARLY  ADVENTURES.  55 

Wind  so*  Castle,  or  in  the  gorgeous  saloons  of  Ver¬ 
sailles. 

Daniel  Boone,  in  imagination,  was  incessantly  visit¬ 
ing  the  land  beyond  the  mountains,  and  longing  to 
explore  its  mysteries.  Whether  he  would  find  the 
ocean  there  or  an  expanse  of  lakes  and  majestic  rivers, 
or  boundless  prairies,  or  the  unbroken  forest,  he  knew 
not.  Whether  the  region  were  crowded  with  Indians, 
and  if  so,  whether  they  would  be  found  friendly  or 
hostile,  and  whether  game  roamed  there  in  greater 
variety  and  in  larger  abundance  than  on  the  Atlantic 
side  of  the  great  barrier,  were  questions  as  yet  all  un¬ 
solved.  But  these  questions  Daniel  Boone  pondered 
in  silence,  night  and  day. 

A  gentleman  who  nearly  half  a  century  ago  visited 
One  of  these  frontier  dwellings,  very  romantically 
situated  amidst  the  mountains  of  Western  Virginia, 
has  given  us  a  pencil  sketch  of  the  habitation  which 
we  here  introduce.  The  account  of  the  visit  is  also 
so  graphic  that  we  cannot  improve  it  by  giving  it  in 
any  language  but  his  own.  This  settler  had  passed 
through  the  first  and  was  entering  upon  the  second 
stage  of  pioneer  life  : 

** Towards  the  close  of  an  autumnal  day,  when  trav¬ 
eling  through  the  thinly  settled  region  of  Western 
Virginia,  I  came  up  with  a  substantial-looking  farmer 
leaning  on  the  fence  by  the  road  side,  I  accom- 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


5^ 

panted  him  to  his  house  to  spend  the  night.  It  was 
a  log  dwelling,  and  near  it  stood  another  log  struc¬ 
ture,  about  twelve  feet  square, — the  weaving  shop  of 
the  family.  On  entering  the  dwelling  I  found  the 
numerous  household  all  clothed  in  substantial  gar¬ 
ments  of  their  own  manufacture.  The  floor  was 
unadorned  by  a  carpet  and  the  room  devoid  of  super* 
Auous  furniture  ;  yet  they  had  all  that  necessity 
required  for  their  comfort.  One  needs  but  little  ex¬ 
perience  like  this  to  learn  how  few  are  our  real  wants, 
— how  easily  most  luxuries  of  dress,  furniture  and 
equipage  can  be  dispensed  with. 

“  Soon  after  my  arrival  supper  was  ready.  It 
consisted  of  fowls,  bacon,  hoe-cake  and  buckwheat 
cakes.  Our  beverage  was  milk  and  coffee,  sweetened 
with  maple  sugar.  Soon  as  it  grew  dark  my  hostess 
took  down  a  small  candle  mould  for  three  candles, 
hanging  from  the  wall  on  a  frame-work  just  in  front 
of  the  fire-place,  in  company  with  a  rifle,  long  strings 
of  dried  pumpkins  and  other  articles  of  household 
property.  On  retiring  I  was  conducted  to  the  room 
overhead,  to  which  I  ascended  by  stairs  out  of  doors. 
My  bed-fellow  was  the  county  sheriff,  a  young  man  of 
about  my  own  age.  And  as  we  lay  together  a  fine 
field  was  had  for  astronomical  observations  through 
the  chinks  of  the  logs. 

*  The  next  morning,  after  rising,  I  was  looking  fa* 


KIS  EARLY  ADVENTURES. 


$? 


the  washing  apparatus,  when  he  tapped  me  on  the 
shoulder,  as  a  signal  to  accompany  him  to  the  brook 
in  the  rear  of  the  house,  in  whose  pure  crystal  waters 
we  performed  our  morning  ablutions.  After  break¬ 
fast,  through  the  persuasion  of  the  sheriff,  I  agreed  to 
go  across  the  country  by  his  house.  He  was  on 
horseback  ;  I  on  foot  bearing  my  knapsack.  For  six 
miles  our  route  lay  through  a  pathless  forest ;  on 
emerging  from  which  we  soon  passed  through  the 
‘Court  House/  the  only  village  in  the  county,  con¬ 
sisting  of  about  a  dozen  log-houses  and  the  court 
building. 

“  Soon  after  we  came  to  a  Methodist  encampment 
This  was  formed  of  three  continuous  lines,  each  oc¬ 
cupying  a  side  of  a  square  and  about  one  hundred 
feet  in  length.  Each  row  was  divided  into  six  or  ten 
cabins  with  partitions  between.  The  height  of  the 
rows  on  the  inner  side  of  the  enclosed  area  was  about 
ten  feet,  on  the  outer  about  six,  to  which  the  roofs 
sloped  shed-like.  The  door  of  each  cabin  opened  on 
the  inner  side  of  the  area,  and  at  the  back  of  each 
was  a  log  chimney  coming  up  even  with  the  roof. 
At  the  upper  extremity  of  the  inclosure,  formed  by 
these  three  lines  of  cabins,  was  an  open  shed  ;  a  mere 
roof  supported  by  posts,  say  thirty  by  fifty  feet,  in 
which  was  a  coarse  pulpit  and  log  seats.  A  few  tall 
trees  were  standing  within  the  area*  and  many  stumps 


$8  DANIEL  BOONE 

scattered  here  and  there.  The  whole  establishment 
was  in  the  depth  of  a  forest,  and  wild  and  rude  as  can 
well  be  imagined. 

“  In  many  of  these  sparsely -inhabited  counties 
there  are  no  settled  clergy,  and  rarely  do  the  people 
hear  any  other  than  the  Methodist  preachers.  Here 
is  the  itinerating  system  of  Wesley  exhibited  in  its 
full  usefulness.  The  circuits  are  usually  of  three 
weeks’  duration,  in  which  the  clergymen  preach  daily. 
Most  of  these  preachers  are  energetic,  devoted  men, 
and  often  they  endure  great  privations. 

"  After  sketching  the  encampment  I  came  in  a  few 
moments  to  the  dwelling  of  the  sheriff.  Close  by  it 
was  a  group  of  mountain  men  and  women  seated 
around  a  log  cabin,  about  twelve  feet  square,  ten  high, 
and  open  at  the  top,  into  which  these  neighbors  of 
my  companion  were  casting  ears  of  corn  as  fast  as 
they  could  shuck  them.  Cheerfully  they  performed 
their  task.  The  men  were  large  and  hardy ;  the 
damsels  plump  and  rosy,  and  all  dressed  in  good 
warm  homespun.  The  sheriff  informed  me  that  he 
owned  about  two  thousand  acres  around  his  dwelling, 
and  that  his  farm  was  worth  about  one  thousand 
dollars  or  fifty  cents  an  acre. 

“  I  entered  his  log  domicile  which  was  one  story  in 
height,  about  twenty  feet  square  and  divided  into  two 
small  rooms  without  windows  or  places  to  let  in  the 


HF>  EARLY  ADVENTURES. 


59 


light  except  by  a  front  and  rear  door.  1  soon  par- 
took  of  a  meal  in  which  we  had  a  variety  of  luxuries 
not  omitting  beat’s  meat.  A  blessing  was  asked  at 
the  table  by  one  of  the  neighbors.  After  supper  the 
bottle,  as  usual  at  corn  huskings,  was  circulated. 
The  sheriff  learning  that  I  was  a  Washingtonian, 
with  the  politeness  of  one  of  nature’s  gentlemen 
refrained  from  urging  me  to  participate.  The  men 
drank  but  moderately;  and  we  all  drew  around  the 
fire,  the  light  of  which  was  the  only  one  we  had. 
Hunting  stories  and  kindred  topics  served  to  talk 
down  the  hours  till  bed  time. 

w  On  awaking  in  the  morning,  I  saw  two  women 
cooking  breakfast  in  my  bedroom,  and  three  men 
seated  over  the  fire  watching  the  operation.  After 
breakfast,  I  bade  my  host  farewell,  buckled  on  my 
knapsack  and  left.  In -the  course  of  two  hours,  I 
came  to  a  cabin  by  the  wayside.  There  being  no 
gate,  I  sprang  over  the  fence,  entered  the  open  door, 
and  was  received  with  a  hearty  welcome.  It  was  an 
humble  dwelling,  the  abode  of  poverty.  The  few 
articles  of  furniture  were  neat  and  pleasantly  arranged. 
In  the  corner  stood  two  beds,  one  hung  with  curtains, 
and  both  with  coverlets  of  snowy  white,  contrasting 
with  the  dingy  log  walls,  rude  furniture,  and  rough 
boarded  floor  of  this,  the  only  room  in  the  dwelling. 
Around  a  cheerful  fire  was  seated  an  interesting 


Go 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


family  group.  In  one  corner,  on  the  hearth,  sat  the 
mother,  smoking  a  pipe.  Next  to  her  was  a  little  girl, 
in  a  small  chair,  holding  a  young  kitten.  In  the 
opposite  corner  sat  a  venerable  old  man,  of  Herculean 
stature,  robed  in  a  hunting  shirt,  and  with  a  coun¬ 
tenance  as  majestic  and  impressive  as  that  of  a  Roman 
senator.  In  the  centre  of  the  group  was  a  young 
maiden,  modest  and  retiring,  not  beautiful,  except  in 
that  moral  beauty  virtue  gives.  She  was  reading  to 
them  from  a  little  book.  She  was  the  only  one  of  the 
family  who  could  read,  and  she  could  do  so  but 
imperfectly.  In  that  small  volume  was  the  whole 
secret  of  the  neatness  and  happiness  found  in  this 
lonely  cot.  That  little  book  was  the  New  Testament.” 

The  institution  of  camp-meetings,  introduced  with 
bo  much  success  by  the  Methodists,  those  noble 
pioneers  of  Christianity,  seem  to  have  been  the 
necessary  result  of  the  attempt  to  preach  to  the 
sparsely  settled  population  of  a  new  country.  The 
following  is  said  to  be  the  origin  of  those  camp- 
meetings  which  have  done  incalculable  good,  socially, 
intellectually,  and  religiously. 

In  the  year  1799,  two  men  by  the  name  of  McGee, 
one  a  Presbyterian,  the  other  a  Methodist,  set  out  on 
a  missionary  tour  together,  to  visit  the  log-houses  in 
the  wilderness.  A  meeting  was  appointed  at  a  little 
settlement  upon  one  of  the  tributaries  of  the  Ohio. 


HIS  EARLY  ADVENTURES. 


61 


The  pioneers  flocked  to  the  place  from  many  miles 
around.  There  was  no  church  there,  and  the  meeting 
was  necessarily  held  in  the  open  air.  Many  brought 
their  food  with  them  and  camped  out.  Thus  the 
meeting,  with  exhortation  and  prayer,  was  continued  in 
the  night.  Immense  bonfires  blazed,  illuminating  the 
sublimities  of  the  forest,  and  the  assembled  con¬ 
gregation,  cut  off  from  all  the  ordinary  privileges  of 
civilized  life,  listened  devoutly  to  the  story  of  a  Savior’s 
love. 

This  meeting  was  so  successful  in  its  results  that 
another  was  appointed  at  a  small  settlement  on  the 
banks  of  a  stream  called  Muddy  river.  The  tidings 
spread  rapidly  through  all  the  stations  and  farm  houses 
on  the  frontier.  It  afforded  these  lonely  settlers  & 
delightful  opportunity  of  meeting  together.  They 
could  listen  for  hours  with  unabated  interest  to  the 
religious  exercises.  The  people  assembled  from  a 
distance  of  forty  or  fifty  miles  around.  A  vast  con¬ 
course  had  met  beneath  the  foliage  of  the  trees,  the 
skies  alone,  draped  with  clouds  by  day  and  adorned 
with  stars  by  night,  the  dome  of  their  majestic  temple. 

The  scene,  by  night,  must  have  been  picturesque  in 
the  extreme.  Men,  women  and  children  were  there  in 
homespun  garb  ;  and  being  accustomed  to  camp  life, 
they  were  there  in  comfort.  Strangers  met  and 
became  friends.  Many  wives  and  mothers  obtained 


62 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


rest  and  refreshment  from  their  monotonous  toils 
There  is  a  bond  in  Christ’s  discipleship,  stronger  than 
any  other,  and  Christians  grasped  hands  in  love, 
pledging  themselves  anew  to  a  holy  life.  For  several 
days  and  nights,  this  religious  festival  was  continued 
Time  could  not  have  been  better  spent.  Dwellers  in 
the  forest  could  not  afford  to  take  so  long  a  journey 
merely  to  listen  to  one  half-hour’s  discourse.  These 
men  and  women  were  earnest  and  thoughtful.  In 
the  solitude  of  their  homes,  they  had  reflected  deeply 
upon  life  and  its  issues.  When  death  occasionally 
visited  their  cabins,  it  was  a  far  more  awful  event  than 
when  death  occurs  in  the  crowded  city,  where  the 
hearse  is  every  hour  of  every  day  passing  through  the 
streets. 

These  scenes  of  worship  very  deeply  impressed  the 
minds  of  the  people.  They  were  not  Gospel  hardened. 
The  gloom  and  silence  of  the  forest,  alike  still  by 
night  and  by  day  ;  the  memory  of  the  past,  with  its  few 
joys  and  many  griefs  ;  the  anticipations  of  the  future, 
with  its  unceasing  struggles,  to  terminate  only  in 
death  ;  the  solemnity  which  rested  on  every  coun¬ 
tenance  ;  the  sweet  melody  of  the  hymns  ;  the  earnest 
tones  of  the  preachers  in  exhortation  and  prayer,  all 
combined  to  present  a  scene  calculated  to  produce 
a  very  profound  impression  upon  the  human  mind 
&t  this  meeting,  not  only  professed  Christians  weng 


HIS  EARLY  ADVENTURES.  6$ 

greatly  revived,  but  not  less  than  a  hundred  persons* 
it  was  thought,  became  disciples  of  the  Savior. 

Another  camp-meeting  was  soon  after  appointed  to 
meet  on  Desha’s  Creek,  a  small  stream  flowing  into 
the  Cumberland  river.  The  country  was  now  be¬ 
coming  more  populous,  and  several  thousand  were 
assembled.  And  thus  the  work  went  on,  multitudes 
being  thus  reached  by  the  preached  Gospel  who  could 
not  be  reached  in  any  other  way.^ 

Life  on  the  frontier  was  by  no  means  devoid  of  its 
enjoyments  as  well  as  of  its  intense  excitements.  It 
must  have  been  also  an  exceedingly  busy  life.  There 
were  no  mills  for  cutting  timber  or  grinding  corn  ;  no 
blacksmith  shops  to  repair  the  farming  utensils. 
There  were  no  tanneries,  no  carpenters,  shoemakers, 
weavers.  Every  family  had  to  do  everything  for 
itself.  The  corn  was  pounded  with  a  heavy  pestle  in 
a  large  mortar  made  by  burning  an  excavation  in  a 
solid  block  of  wood.  By  means  of  these  mortars  the 
settlers,  in  regions  where  saltpetre  could  be  obtained, 
made  very  respectable  gunpowder.  In  making  corn- 
meal  a  grater  was  sometimes  used,  consisting  of  a 
half-circular  piece  of  tin,  perforated  with  a  punch 
from  the  concave  side.  The  ears  of  corn  were  rubbed 
on  the  rough  edges,  and  the  meal  fell  through  the 


*  Bang’s  History  of  Metkodism 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


holes  on  a  board  or  cloth  placed  to  receive  it.  They 
also  sometimes  made  use  of  a  handmill,  resembling 
those  alluded  to  in  the  Bible.  These  consisted  o f 
two  circular  stones ;  the  lowest,  which  was  immov¬ 
able,  was  called  the  bed-stone, —the  upper  one,  the 
nrnnei.  Two  persons  could  grind  together  at  this 
mill. 

The  clothing  was  all  of  domestic  manufacture.  A 
fabric  called  linsey-woolsey  was  most  frequently  in 
use  and  made  the  most  substantial  and  warmest 
clothing.  It  was  made  of  flax  and  wool,  the  former 
the  warp,  the  latter  the  filling.  Every  cabin  almost 
had  its  rude  loom,  and  every  woman  was  a  weaver. 

The  men  tanned  their  own  leather.  A  large  trough 
was  sunk  in  the  ground  to  its  upper  edge.  Bark  was 
shaved  with  an  axe  and  pounded  with  a  mallet 
Ashes  were  used  for  lime  in  removing  the  hair.  In 
the  winter  evenings  the  men  made  strong  shoes  and 
moccasins,  and  the  women  cut  out  and  made  hunting 
shirts,  leggins  and  drawers. 

Hunting  was  a  great  source  of  amusement  as  well 
as  a  very  exciting  and  profitable  employment.  The 
boys  were  all  taught  to  imitate  the  call  of  every  bird 
and  beast  in  the  woods.  The  skill  in  imitation 
which  they  thus  acquired  was  wonderful.  Hidden  in 
a  thicket  they  would  gobble  like  a  turkey  and  lure  a 
whole  flock  of  these  birds  within  reach  of  their  rifles.: 


HIS  EARLY  ADVENTURES. 


Bleating  like  the  fawn  they  would  draw  the  timid 
dam  to  her  death.  The  moping  owls  would  come  in 
Hocks  attracted  by  the  screech  of  the  hunter,  while 
packs  of  wolves,  far  away  in  the  forest,  would  howl  in 
response  to  the  hunter’s  cry.  The  boys  also  rivalled 
the  Indians  in  the  skill  with  which  they  would  throw 
the  tomahawk.  With  a  handle  of  a  given  length, 
and  measuring  the  distance  with  the  eye,  they  would 
throw  the  weapon  with  such  accuracy  that  its  keen 
edge  would  be  sure  to  strike  the  object  at  which  it 
was  aimed.  Running,  jumping,  wrestling  were  pas¬ 
times  in  which  both  boys  and  men  engaged.  Shoot¬ 
ing  at  a  mark  was  one  of  the  most  favorite  diversions. 
When  a  boy  had  attained  the  age  of  about  twelve 
years,  a  rifle  was  usually  placed  in  his  hands.  In  the 
house  or  fort  where  he  resided,  a  port-hole  was  as< 
signed  him,  where  he  was  to  do  valiant  service  as 
a  soldier,  in  case  of  an  attack  by  the  Indians.  Every 
day  he  was  in  the  woods  hunting  squirrels,  turkeys 
and  raccoons.  Thus  he  soon  acquired  extraordinary 
expertness  with  his  gun. 

The  following  interesting  narrative  is  taken  from 
Ramsay’s  Annals  of  Tennessee,  which  State  was 
settled  about  the  same  time  with  Kentucky  and  with 
emigrants  from  about  the  same  region  : 

“The  settlement  of  Tennessee  was  unlike  that  of 
the  present  new  country  of  the  United  States.  Emi- 


66 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


grants  from  the  Atlantic  cities,  and  from  most  points 
in  the  Western  interior,  now  embark  upon  steamboats 
or  other  craft,  and  canying  with  them  all  the  con¬ 
veniences  and  comforts  of  civilized  life — indeed  many 
of  its  luxuries —are,  in  a  few  days,  without  toil, 
danger  or  exposure,  transported  to  their  new  abodes, 
and  in  a  few  months  are  surrounded  with  the  ap¬ 
pendages  of  home,  of  civilization  and  the  blessings  o f 
law  and  of  society. 

“The  wilds  of  Minnesota  and  Nebraska,  by  the 
agency  of  steam  or  the  stalwart  arms  of  Western 
boatmen,  are  at  once  transformed  into  the  settle¬ 
ments  of  a  commercial  and  civilized  people.  Inde¬ 
pendence  and  Saint  Paul,  six  months  after  they  are 
laid  off,  have  their  stores  and  their  workshops,  their 
artisans  and  their  mechanics.  The  mantua-maker 
and  the  tailor  arrive  in  the  same  boat  with  the  car¬ 
penter  and  mason.  The  professional  man  and  the 
printer  quickly  follow.  In  the  succeeding  year  the 
piano,  the  drawing-room,  the  restaurant,  the  billiard 
table,  the  church  bell,  the  village  and  the  city  in 
miniature  are  all  found,  while  the  neighboring  inte¬ 
rior  is  yet  a  wilderness  and  a  desert. 

“The  town  and  comfort,  taste  and  urbanity  aie 
first ;  the  clearing,  the  farm  house,  the  wagon  road 
and  the  improved  country,  second.  It  was  far  dif¬ 
ferent  on  the  frontier  of  Tennessee.  At  first  a  single 


HIS  EARLY  ADVENTURES 


6? 


Indian  trail  was  the  only  entrance  to  the  Eastern 
border  of  it,  and  for  many  years  admitted  only  the 
hunter  and  the  pack-horse.  It  was  not  till  the  year 
1776  that  a  wagon  was  seen  in  Tennessee.  In  conse¬ 
quence  of  the  want  of  roads — as  well  as  of  the  great 
distance  from  the  sources  of  supply — the  first  inhabi¬ 
tants  were  without  tools,  and  of  course  without 
mechanics — much  more  without  the  conveniences  of 
living  and  the  comforts  of  housekeeping. 

“Luxuries  were  absolutely  unknown.  Salt  was 
brought  on  pack-horses  from  Augusta  and  Richmond 
and  readily  commanded  ten  dollars  a  bushel.  The 
salt  gourd  in  every  cabin  was  considered  as  a  treasure. 
The  sugar  maple  furnished  the  only  article  of  luxury 
on  the  frontier ;  coffee  and  tea  being  unknown  or 
beyond  the  reach  of  the  settlers.  Sugar  was  seldom 
made  and  was  used  only  for  the  sick,  or  in  the  pre¬ 
paration  of  a  sweetened  dram  at  a  wedding,  or  on 
the  arrival  of  a  new  comer. 

u  The  appendages  of  the  kitchen,  the  cupboard  and 
the  table,  were  scanty  and  simple.  Iron  was  brought 
at  great  expense  from  the  forges  east  of  the  moun¬ 
tains,  on  pack-horses,  and  was  sold  at  an  enormous 
price.  Its  use  was,  for  this  reason,  confined  to  the 
construction  and  repair  of  ploughs  and  other  farming 
utensils.  Hinges,  nails  and  fastenings  of  that  material 
were  seldom  seen.  The  costume  of  the  first  settlers 


68 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


corresponded  well  with  the  style  of  their  buildings 
and  the  quality  of  their  furniture  :  the  hunting  shirt 
of  the  militia  man  and  the  hunter  was  in  general  use. 
The  rest  of  their  apparel  was  in  keeping  with  it,— 
plain,  substantial  and  well  adapted  for  comfort,  use 
and  economy.  The  apparel  of  the  pioneer’s  family 
was  all  home-made ;  and  in  a  whole  neighborhood 
there  would  not  be  seen,  at  the  first  settlement  of  the 
country,  a  single  article  of  dress  of  foreign  manufac¬ 
ture.  Half  the  year,  in  many  families,  shoes  were 
not  worn.  Boots,  a  fur  hat  and  a  coat,  with  buttons 
on  each  side,  attracted  the  gaze  of  the  beholder  and 
sometimes  received  censure  or  rebuke.  A  stranger 
from  the  old  States  chose  to  doff  his  ruffles,  his  broad¬ 
cloth  and  his  cue  rather  than  endure  the  scoff  and 
ridicule  of  the  backwoodsman. 

“  The  dwelling  house  on  every  frontier  in  Tennessee 
was  the  log-cabin.  A  carpenter  and  a  mason  were 
not  needed  to  build  them — much  less  the  painter,  the 
glazier  and  the  upholsterer.  Every  settler  had,  besides 
his  rifle,  no  other  instrument  but  an  axe  or  hatchet 
and  a  butcher-knife.  A  saw,  an  auger,  a  file  and  a 
broad-axe  would  supply  a  whole  settlement,  and  were 
used  as  common  property  in  the  erection  of  the  log- 
cabin. 

“  The  labor  and  employment  oi  a  pioneer  family 
were  distributed  in  accordance  with  surrounding  cir- 


HIS  EARLY  ADVENTURES. 


69 


cumstances.  To  the  men  was  assigned  the  duty  of  pro- 
curing  subsistence  and  materials  for  clothing,  erecting 
the  cabin  and  the  station,  opening  and  cultivating  the 
farm,  hunting  the  wild  beasts,  and  repelling  and 
pursueing  the  Indians.  The  women  spun  the  flax, 
the  cotton  and  the  wool,  wove  the  cloth,  made  them 
up,  milked,  churned  and  prepared  the  food,  and  did 
their  full  share  of  the  duties  of  housekeeping. 

“  Could  there  be  happiness  or  comfort  in  such 
dwellings  and  such  a  state  of  society  ?  To  those  who 
are  accustomed  to  modern  refinements  the  truth 
appears  like  fable.  The  early  occupants  of  log-cabins 
were  among  the  most  happy  of  mankind.  Exercise 
and  excitement  gave  them  health.  They  were  prac¬ 
tically  equal,  common  danger  made  them  mutually 
dependent.  Brilliant  hopes  of  future  wealth  and  dis¬ 
tinction  led  them  on.  And  as  there  was  ample  room 
for  all,  and  as  each  new  comer  increased  individual 
and  general  security,  there  was  little  room  for  that 
envy,  jealousy  and  hatred  which  constitute  a  large 
portion  of  human  misery  in  older  societies, 

“  Never  were  the  story,  the  joke,  the  song  and  the 
laugh  better  enjoyed  than  upon  the  hewed  blocks  or 
puncheon  stools,  around  the  roaring  log  fire  of  the  early 
western  settler. 

“  On  the  frontier  the  diet  was  necessarily  plain  and 
homely,  but  exceedingly  abundant  and  nutritive 


7C  DANIEL  BOONE, 

The  Goshen  of  America  furnishes  the  richest  milk  and 
the  most  savory  and  delicious  meats.  In  their  rude 
cabins,  with  their  scanty  and  inartificial  furniture,  no 
people  ever  enjoyed,  in  wholesome  food  a  greater 
variety,  or  a  superior  quality  of  the  necessaries  of 
life.” 

A  writer  of  that  day  describes  the  sports  of  these 
pioneers  of  Kentucky.  One  of  them  consisted  in 
“  driving  the  nail.”  A  common  nail  was  hammered 
into  a  target  for  about  two  thirds  of  its  length.  The 
marksmen  then  took  their  stand  at  the  distance  of 
about  forty  paces.  Each  man  carefully  cleaned  the 
interior  of  his  gun,  and  then  placed  a  bullet  in  his 
hand,  over  which  he  poured  just  enough  powder  to 
cover  it.  This  was  a  charge.  A  shot  which  only 
came  close  to  the  nail  was  considered  a  very  indifferent 
shot.  Nothing  was  deemed  satisfactory  but  striking 
the  nail  with  the  bullet  fairly  on  the  head.  Generally 
one  out  of  three  shots  would  hit  the  nail.  Two  nails 
were  frequently  needed  before  each  man  could  get  a 
shot 

Barking  of  Squirrels  is  another  sport.  *  I  first 
witnessed,”  writes  the  one  to  whom  we  have  above 
alluded,  “this  manner  of  procuring  squirrels,  while 
near  the  town  of  Frankfort.  The  performer  was  the 
celebrated  Daniel  Boone.  We  walked  out  together 
and  followed  the  rocky  margins  of  the  Kentucky  rivet 


HIS  EARLY  ADVENTURES. 


7  * 


until  we  reached  a  piece  of  flat  land,  thickly  covered 
with  black  walnuts,  oaks,  and  hickories.  Squirrels 
were  seen  gambolling  on  every  tree  around  us.  My 
companion  Mr.  Boone,  a  stout,  hale,  athletic  man, 
dressed  in  a  home-spun  hunting  shirt,  bare  legged  and 
moccasined,  carried  a  long  and  heavy  rifle,  which,  as 
he  was  loading  it,  he  said  had  proved  efficient  in  all 
his  former  undertakings,  and  which  he  hoped  would 
not  fail  on  this  occasion,  as  he  felt  proud  to  show  me 
his  skill. 

“The  gun  was  wiped,  the  powder  measured,  the 
ball  patched  with  six  hundred  thread  linen,  and  a 
charge  sent  home  with  a  hickory  rod.  We  moved  not 
a  step  from  the  place,  for  the  squirrels  were  so  thick, 
that  it  was  unnecessary  to  go  after  them.  Booing 
pointed  to  one  of  these  animals,  which  had  observed 
us  and  was  crouched  on  a  tree,  about  fifty  paces 
distant,  and  bade  me  mark  well  where  the  ball  should 
hit.  He  raised  his  piece  gradually,  until  the  head,  or 
sight  of  the  barrel,  was  brought  to  a  line  with  the  spot 
he  intended  to  strike.  The  whip-like  report  resounded 
through  the  woods,  and  along  the  hills,  in  repeated 
echoes.  Judge  of  my  surprise,  when  I  perceived  that 
the  ball  had  hit  the  piece  of  bark  immediately  under¬ 
neath  the  squirrel,  and  shivered  it  into  splinters ;  the 
concussion  produced  by  which  had  killed  the  animal, 
and  sent  it  whirling  through  the  air,  as  if  it  had  beeis 


DANIEL  BOONE* 


72 

blown  up  by  the  explosion  of  a  powder  magazine. 
Boone  kept  up  his  firing,  and  before  many  hours  had 
elapsed,  we  had  procured  as  many  squirrels  as  we 
wished.  Since  that  first  interview  with  the  veteran 
Boone,  I  have  seen  many  other  individuals  perform 
the  same  feat. 

“  The  Snuffing  of  a  Candle  with  a  ball,  I  first  had 
an  opportunity  of  seeing  near  the  banks  of  Green 
River,  not  far  from  a  large  pigeon  roost,  to  which  I 
had  previously  made  a  visit.  I  had  heard  many 
reports  of  guns  during  the  early  part  of  a  dark  night, 
and  knowing  them  to  be  rifles,  I  went  towards  the 
spot  to  ascertain  the  cause.  On  reaching  the  place,  I 
was  welcomed  by  a  dozen  tall,  stout  men,  who  told 
me  they  were  exercising  for  the  purpose  of  enabling 
them  to  shoot  in  the  night  at  the  reflected  light  from 
the  eyes  of  a  deer,  or  wolf,  by  torch-light. 

“  A  fire  was  blazing  near,  the  smoke  of  which  rose 
curling  among  the  thick  foliage  of  the  trees.  At  a 
distance  which  rendered  it  scarcely  distinguishable, 
stood  a  burning  candle,  which  in  reality  was  only  fifty 
yards  from  the  spot  on  which  we  all  stood.  One  man 
was  within  a  few  yards  of  it  to  watch  the  effect  of  the 
shots,  as  well  as  to  light  the  candle,  should  it  chance 
to  go  out,  or  to  replace  it  should  the  shot  cut  it  across. 
Each  marksman  shot  in  his  turn.  Some  never  hit 
neither  the  snuff  or  the  candle,  and  were  congratulated 


HIS  EARLY  ADVENTURES. 


73 


with  a  loud  laugh  ;  while  others  actually  snuffed  the 
candle  without  putting  it  out,  and  were  recompensed 
for  their  dexterity  with  numerous  hurrahs.  One  of 
them,  who  was  particularly  expert,  was  very  fortunate 
and  snuffed  the  candle  three  times  out  of  seven  ;  while 
all  the  other  shots  either  put  out  the  candle  or  cut  it 
immediately  under  the  light 


CHAPTER  XXL 


Louisiana,  Us  Discovery  and  Vicissitudes , 


LcfUlsiaisa,  and  Its  eventful  history. — The  Expedition  of  de  Sotek— !%£ 
Missionary  Marquette. — His  voyage  on  the  Upper  Mississippi.— 
The  Expedition  of  La  Salle. — Michilimackinac. — Its  ! History— 
Fate  of  the  «‘Gi1i23n.M — Grief  of  La  Salle. — His  voyage  of  Dis¬ 
covery. — Sale  of  Louisiana  to  the  United  States. — Be  marks  of 
Napoleon. 

The  transfer  of  Louisiana  to  the  United  States  is 
one  of  the  most  interesting  events  in  the  history  of 
our  country.  In  the  year  1800,  Spain,  then  in 
possession  of  the  vast  region  west  of  the  Mississippi, 
ceded  it  to  France.  The  whole  country  west  of  the 
majestic  river  appropriately  called  the  Father  of 
Waters,  was  then  called  Louisiana,  and  its  boundaries 
were  very  obscurely  defined.  Indeed  neither  the 
missionary  nor  the  hunter  had  penetrated  but  a  very 
short  distance  into  those  unknown  wilds.  It  was  in 
the  year  1541  that  De  Soto,  marching  from  Florida 
across  the  country,  came  to  the  banks  of  this  magnifi¬ 
cent  river,  near  the  present  site  of  Memphis.  He 
knew  not  where  it  took  its  rise,  or  where  it  emptied 
its  swollen  flood.  But  he  found  a  stream  more  than 
&  mile  in  width,  of  almost  fathomless  depth,  rolling 


LOUISIANA,  ITS  DISCOVERY,  ETC  7§ 

its  rapid,  turbid  stream,  on  which  were  floated 
innumerable  logs  and  trees,  through  an  almost  unin¬ 
habited  country  of  wonderful  luxuriance.  He  was  in 
search  of  gold,  and  crossing  the  river,  advanced  in  a 
north-westerly  direction  about  two  hundred  miles,  till 
he  came  within  sight  of  the  Highlands  of  the  White 
River.  He  then  turned  in  a  southerly  direction,  and 
continued  his  explorations,  till  death  soon  terminated 
his  melancholy  career. 

More  than  one  hundred  and  thirty  years  passed 
over  these  solitudes,  when  James  Marquette,  a  French 
missionary  among  the  Indians  at  Saint  Marys,  the 
outlet  of  Lake  Superior,  resolved  to  explore  the 
Mississippi,  of  whose  magnificence  he  had  heard  much 
from  the  lips  of  the  Indians,  who  had  occasionally 
extended  their  hunting  tours  to  its  banks.  He  was 
inured  to  all  the  hardships  of  the  wilderness,  seemed 
to  despise  wordly  comforts,  and  had  a  soul  of  bravery 
which  could  apparently  set  all  perils  at  defiance. 
And  still  he  was  indued  with  a  poetic  nature,  which  re¬ 
veled  in  the  charms  of  these  wild  and  romantic  realms, 
as  he  climbed  its  mountains  and  floated  in  his  canoe 
over  its  silent  and  placid  streams.  Even  then  it  was  not 
known  wdiether  the  Mississippi  emptied  its  majestic 
flood  into  the  Pacific  Ocean  or  into  the  Gulf  of  Mexico 
The  foot  of  the  white  man  upon  the  shores  of  Lake  Su¬ 
perior,  had  never  penetrated  beyond  the  Indian  village 


76 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


where  the  Fox  River  enters  into  Green  Bay.  From  this 
point  Marquette  started  for  the  exploration  of  the 
Mississippi.  The  party  consisted  of  Mr.  Marquette, 
a  French  gentleman  by  the  name  of  joliete,  five  French 
voyageurs  and  two  Indian  guides.  They  transported 
their  two  birch  canoes  on  their  shoulders  across  the 
portage  from  the  Fox  River  to  the  Wisconsin  river. 
Paddling  rapidly  down  this  stream  through  realms  of 
silence  and  solitude,  they  soon  entered  the  majestic 
Mississippi,  more  than  fifteen  hundred  miles  above 
its  mouth. 

Marquette  seems  to  have  experienced  in  the  high¬ 
est  degree  the  romance  of  his  wonderful  voyage,  fos 
he  says  that  he  commenced  the  descent  of  the  mighty 
river  with  “a  joy  that  could  not  be  expressed.”  It 
was  the  beautiful  month  of  June,  1673,  the  most 
genial  season  of  the  year.  The  skies  were  bright 
above  them.  The  placid  stream  was  fringed  with 
banks  of  wonderful  luxuriance  and  beauty,  the  rocky 
cliffs  at  times  assuming  the  aspect  of  majestic  castles 
of  every  variety  of  architecture ;  again  the  gently 
swelling  hills  were  robed  in  sublime  forests,  and 
again  the  smooth  meadows,  in  their  verdure,  spread 
far  away  to  the  horizon.  Rapidly  the  canoes,  gently 
guided  by  the  paddles,  floated  down  the  stream. 

Having  descended  the  river  about  one  hundred  and 
eighty  miles,  they  came  to  a  very  well  trod  Indian 


LOUISIANA,  ITS  DISCOVERY,  ETC. 


77 


trail  leading  back  from  the  river  into  the  interior.  Mar¬ 
quette  and  Joliete  had  the  curiosity  and  the  courage 
to  follow  this  trail  for  six  miles,  until  they  came  to  an 
Indian  village.  It  would  seem  that  some  of  the 
Indians  there,  in  their  hunting  excursions,  had  wan¬ 
dered  to  some  of  the  French  settlements  ;  for  four  of 
their  leading  men,  dressed  in  the  most  gorgeous  dis¬ 
play  of  barbaric  pomp,  “  brilliant  with  many  colored 
plumes,”  came  out  to  meet  them  and  conducted  them 
to  the  cabin  of  their  chief.  He  addressed  them  in  the 
following  words  : 

“  How  beautiful  is  the  sun,  Frenchman,  when  thou 
comest  to  visit  us.  Our  whole  village  welcomes  thee. 
In  peace  thou  shalt  enter  all  our  dwellings.” 

After  a  very  pleasant  visit  they  resumed  their  voyage. 
They  floated  by  the  mouth  of  the  turbid  Missouri, 
little  dreaming  of  the  grandeur  of  the  realms  watered 
by  that  imperial  stream.  They  passed  the  mouth  of 
the  Ohio,  which  they  recognized  as  the  Belle  Rivilre, 
which  the  Indians  then  called  the  Wabash.  As  they 
floated  rapidly  away  towards  the  south  they  visited 
many  Indian  villages  on  the  banks  of  the  stream, 
where  the  devoted  missionary,  Marquette,  endeavored 
to  proclaim  the  gospel  of  Christ. 

a  I  did  not,”  says  Marquette,  “  fear  death.  I  should 

% 

have  esteemed  it  the  greatest  happiness  to  have  died 
for  the  glory  of  God.” 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


Thus  they  continued  their  exploration  as  far  south 
as  the  mouth  of  the  Arkansas  river,  where  they  were 
hospitably  received  in  a  very  flourishing  Indian  vil¬ 
lage.  Being  now  satisfied  that  the  Mississippi  river 
entered  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  somewhere  between 
Florida  and  California,  they  returned  to  Green  Bay 
by  the  route  of  the  Illinois  river.  By  taking  advan¬ 
tage  of  the  eddies,  on  either  side  of  the  stream,  it  was 
not  difficult  for  them,  in  their  light  canoes,  to  make 
the  ascent. 

Marquette  landed  on  the  western  banks  of  Lake 
Michigan  to  preach  the  gospel  to  a  tribe  of  Indians 
called  the  Miames,  residing  near  the  present  site  of 
Chicago.  Joliete  returned  to  Quebec  to  announce  the 
result  of  their  discoveries.  He  was  received  with 
great  rejoicing.  The  whole  population  flocked  to  the 
cathedral,  where  the  Te  Deum  was  sung. 

Five  years  passed  away,  during  which  the  great 
river  flowed  almost  unthought  of,  through  its  vast 
and  sombre  wilderness.  At  length  in  the  year  1678, 
La  Salle  received  a  commission  from  Louis  the  XIV. 
of  France  to  explore  the  Mississippi  to  its  mouth. 
Having  received  from  the  king  the  command  of 
Fort  Frontenac,  at  the  northern  extremity  of  Lake 
Ontario,  and  a  monopoly  of  the  fur  trade  in  all  the 
countries  he  should  discover,  he  sailed  from  Larochelle 
in  a  ship  well  armed  and  abundantly  supplied,  in 


LOUISIANA,  ITS  DISCOVERY,  ETC, 


n 


June,  1678.  Ascending  the  St  Lawrence  to  Quebec, 
he  repaired  to  Fort  Frontenac.  With  a  large  number 
of  men  he  paddled,  in  birch  canoes,  to  the  southern 
extremity  of  Lake  Ontario,  and,  by  a  portage  around 
the  falls  of  Niagara,  entered  Lake  Erie.  Here  he 
built  a  substantial  vessel,  called  the  Griffin ,  which 
was  the  first  vessel  ever  launched  upon  the  waters  of 
that  lake.  Embarking  in  this  vessel  with  forty  men, 
in  the  month  of  September,  a  genial  and  gorgeous 
month  in  those  latitudes,  he  traversed  with  favoring 
breezes  the  whole  length  of  the  lake,  a  voyage  of  two 
hundred  and  sixty-five  miles,  ascended  the  straits 
and  passed  through  the  Lake  of  St.  Clair,  and  ran 
along  the  coast  of  Lake  Hurori  three  hundred  and 
sixty  miles  to  Michilimackinac,  where  the  three  ma¬ 
jestic  lakes,  Superior,  Michigan  and  Huron,  form  a 
junction. 

Here  a  trading  post  was  established,  which  subse¬ 
quently  attained  world-wide  renown,  and  to  which 
the  Indians  flocked  with  their  furs  from  almost 
boundless  realms.  Mr.  Schoolcraft,  who  some  years 
after  visited  this  romantic  spot,  gives  the  following 
interesting  account  of  the  scenery  and  strange  life 
witnessed  there.  As  these  phases  of  human  life  have 
now  passed  away,  never  to  be  renewed,  it  seems  im¬ 
portant  that  the  memory  of  them  should  be  per 
petuated : 


8o 


DANIEL  BOON®. 


u  Nothing  can  present  a  more  picturesque  and  re« 
freshing  spectacle  to  the  traveler,  wearied  with  the 
lifeless  monotony  of  a  voyage  through  Lake  Huron, 
than  the  first  sight  of  the  island  of  Michilimackinac, 
which  rises  from  the  watery  horizon  in  lofty  bluiTs 
imprinting  a  rugged  outline  along  the  sky  and  capped 
with  a  fortress  on  which  the  American  flag  is  seen 
waving  against  the  blue  heavens.  The  name  is  a 
compound  of  the  word  Misril}  signifying  great,  and 
Mackinac  the  Indian  word  for  turtle,  from  a  fancied 
resemblance  of  the  island  to  a  great  turtle  lying  upon 
the  water. 

u  It  is  a  spot  of  much  interest,  aside  from  its  ro¬ 
mantic  beauty,  in  consequence  of  its  historical  asso¬ 
ciations  and  natural  curiosities.  It  is  nine  miles  in 
circumference,  and  its  extreme  elevation  above  the 
lake  is  over  three  hundred  feet  The  town  is  pleas¬ 
antly  situated  around  a  small  bay  at  the  southern 
extremity  of  the  island,  and  contains  a  few  hundred 
souls,  which  are  sometimes  swelled  to  one  or  two 
thousand  by  the  influx  of  voyageurs,  traders  and 
Indians.  On  these  occasions  its  beautiful  harbor  is 
seen  checkered  with  American  vessels  at  anchor,  and 
Indian  canoes  rapidly  shooting  across  the  water  in 
every  direction. 

“  It  was  formerly  the  seat  of  an  extensive  fur  trade ; 
at  present  it  is  noted  for  the  great  amount  of  trout 


LOUISIANA,  ITS  DISCOVERY,  ETC.  8 1 

and  white  fish  annually  exported.  Fort  Maclkinae 
stood  on  a  rocky  bluff  overlooking  the  town.  The 
ruins  of  Fort  Holmes  are  on  the  apex  of  the  island. 
It  was  built  by  the  British  in  the  war  of  1812,  under 
the  name  of  Fort  George,  and  was  changed  to  its 
present  appellation  after  the  surrender  to  the  Amer¬ 
icans,  in  compliment  to  the  memory  of  Major 
Holmes,  who  fell  in  the  attack  upon  the  island. 

“  The  old  town  of  Michilimackinac  stood  at  the  ex¬ 
treme  point  of  the  peninsula  of  Michigan,  nine  miles 
south  of  the  island.  Eight  years  before  La  Salle’s  ex¬ 
pedition,  Father  Marquette,  the  French  missionary, 
visited  this  spot  with  a  party  of  Hurons,  upon  whom 
he  prevailed  to  locate  themselves.  A  fort  was  soon 
constructed,  and  became  an  important  post.  It  con¬ 
tinued  to  be  the  seat  of  the  fur  trade,  and  the  undis¬ 
turbed  rendezvous  of  the  Indian  tribes  during  the  whole 
period  that  the  French  excercised  dominion  over  the 
Canadas.” 

Here  at  Michilimackinac,  La  Salle  purchased  a 
rich  cargo  of  furs,  exchanging  for  them  his  goods  at 
an  immense  profit.  The  Griffin,  laden  with  wealth* 
set  out  on  her  return  and  was  wrecked  by  the  way 
with  total  loss.  La  Salle  with  his  companions  had 
embarked  in  birch  canoes,  and  descending  Lake 
Michigan  to  near  its  southern  extremity,  they  landed 
and  erected  a  fort  which  they  called  Miamis.  They 


82 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


then  carried  their  canoes  across  to  the  Illinois  river 
and  paddled  down  that  stream  until  they  came  near 
to  the  present  site  of  Peoria,  where  they  established 
another  fort,  which  La  Salle,  grief-stricken  in  view  of 
his  loss,  named  Crkve-Cceur ,  or  Heartsore.  Here  the 
energetic  and  courageous  adventurer  left  his  men  in 
winter  quarters,  while,  with  but  three  companions,  he 
traversed  the  wilderness  on  foot,  amidst  the  snows  of 
winter,  to  Fort  Frontenac,  a  distance  of  fifteen  hun¬ 
dred  miles.  After  an  absence  of  several  weeks,  he 
returned  with  additional  men  and  the  means  of  build¬ 
ing  a  large  and  substantial  flat-bottomed  boat,  with 
which  to  descend  the  Illinois  river  to  the  Mississippi, 
and  the  latter  stream  to  its  mouth. 

The  romantic  achievement  was  successfully  accom¬ 
plished.  The  banners  of  France  were  unfurled  along 
the  banks  of  the  majestic  river  and  upon  the  shores 
of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  This  whole  region  which 
France  claimed  by  the  right  of  discovery,  was  named 
in  honor  of  the  king  of  France,  Louisiana.  Its  limits 
were  necessarily  quite  undefined.  In  1684,  a  French 
colony  of  two  hundred  and  eighty  persons  was  sent 
out  to  €ffect  a  settlement  on  the  Lower  Mississippi. 
Passing  by  the  mouth  of  the  river  without  discover¬ 
ing  it,  they  landed  in  Texas,  and  took  possession  of 
the  country  in  the  name  of  the  king  of  France, 
Disaster  followed  disaster.  La  Salle  died,  and  the 


LOUISIANA,  ITS  DISCOVERY,  ETC.  83 

colonists  were  exterminated  by  the  Indiana.  Hot 
long  after  this,  all  the  country  west  of  the  Mississippi 
was  ceded  by  France  to  Spain,  and  again,  some  years 
after,  was  surrendered  back  again  by  Spain  to  France. 
We  have  not  space  here  to  allude  to  the  details  of 
these  varied  transactions.  But  this  comprehensive 
record  seems  to  be  essential  to  the  full  understanding 
of  the  narrative  upon  which  we  have  entered. 

It  was  in  the  year  1763  that  Louisiana  was  ceded, 
by  France,  to  Spain.  In  the  year  1800,  it  was  yielded 
back  to  France,  under  Napoleon,  by  a  secret  article 
in  the  treaty  of  Sn.  Ildefonso.  It  had  now  become  a 
matter  of  infinite  moment  to  the  United  States  that 
the  great  Republic  should  have  undisputed  command 
of  the  Mississippi,  from  its  source  to  its  mouth- 
President  Jefferson  instructed  our  Minister  at  Paris, 
Robert  Livingston,  to  negotiate  with  the  French 
Government  for  the  purchase  of  Louisiana.  France 
was  then  at  war  with  England.  The  British  fleet 
swept  triumphantly  all  the  seas.  Napoleon,  conscious 
that  he  could  not  protect  I  ouisiana  from  British 
arms,  consented  to  the  sale.  We  are  informed  that 
©n  the  10th  of  April,  1803,  he  summoned  two  of  his 
ministers  in  council,  and  said  to  them : 

u  I  am  fully  sensible  of  the  value  of  Louisiana ;  and 
it  was  my  wish  to  repair  the  error  of  the  French  dip¬ 
lomatists  who  abandoned  it  in  1763.  I  have  scarcely 


$4 


DANIEL  BOONS. 


recovered  it  before  I  run  the  risk  of  losing  it,  But  if 
I  am  obliged  to  give  it  up  it  shall  cost  more  to  those 
who  force  me  to  part  with  it,  than  to  those  to  whom 
I  yield  it.  The  English  have  despoiled  France  of  ail 
her  Northern  possessions  in  America,  and  now  they 
covet  those  of  the  South.  I  am  determined  that  they 
shall  not  have  the  Mississippi.  Although  Louisiana 
is  but  a  trifle  compared  with  their  vast  possessions  in 
other  parts  of  the  globe,  yet,  judging  from  the  vexa¬ 
tion  they  have  manifested  on  seeing  it  return  to  the 
power  of  France,  I  am  certain  that  their  first  object 
will  be  to  obtain  possession  of  it. 

u  They  will  probably  commence  the  war  in  that 
quarter.  They  have  twenty  vessels  in  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico,  and  our  affairs  in  St.  Domingo  are  daily 
getting  worse,  since  the  death  of  Le  Clere.  The  con¬ 
quest  of  Louisiana  might  be  easily  made,  and  I  have 
not  a  moment  to  lose  in  putting  it  out  of  their  reach. 
I  am  not  sure  but  that  they  have  already  began  an 
attack  upon  it.  Such  a  measure  would  be  in  accord¬ 
ance  with  their  habits ;  and  in  their  place  I  should 
not  wait.  I  am  inclined,  in  order  to  deprive  them  of 
all  prospect  of  ever  possessing  it,  to  cede  it  to  the 
United  States.  Indeed  I  can  hardly  say  I  cede  it, 
for  I  do  not  yet  possess  it.  And  if  I  wait  but  a  short 
time,  my  enemies  may  leave  me  nothing  but  an  empty 
title  to  grant  to  the  Republic  I  wish  to  conciliate.  They 


LOUISIANA,  ITS  DISCOVERY,  ETC. 


85 


only  ask  for  one  city  of  Louisiana ;  but  I  consider 
tbe  whole  colony  as  lost.  And  I  believe  that  in  the 
hands  of  this  rising  power,  it  will  be  more  useful  to 
die  political  and  even  the  commercial  interests  o f 
France,  than  if  J  should  attempt  to  retain  it.  Let 
me  have  both  of  your  opinions  upon  this  subject.” 

One  of  the  ministers,  Barbe  Marbois,  cordially 
approved  of  the  plan  of  “  cession.”  The  other  oppo¬ 
sed  it.  After  long  deliberation,  the  conference  was 
closed,  without  Napoleon  making  known  his  decision. 
The  next  day  he  sent  for  Barbe  Marbois,  and  said  to 
him  : 

“  The  season  for  deliberation  is  over.  I  have 
determined  to  part  with  Louisiana.  I  shall  give  up 
not  only  New  Orleans,  but  the  whole  colony  without 
reservation.  That  I  do  not  undervalue  Louisiana  I 
have  sufficiently  proved,  as  the  object  of  my  first 
treaty  with  Spain  was  to  recover  it  But  though  I 
regret  parting  with  it,  I  am  convinced  that  it  would 
be  folly  to  persist  in  trying  to  keep  it  I  commission 
you,  therefore,  to  negotiate  this  affair  with  the  envoys 
of  the  United  States.  Do  not  wait  the  arrival  of  Mr. 
Munroe,  but  go  this  very  day  and  confer  with  Mr. 
Livingston. 

u  Remember,  however,  that  1  need  ample  funds  for 
carrying  on  the  war  ;  and  I  do  not  wish  to  commence 
It  by  levying  new  taxes.  During  the  last  century, 


S5 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


France  and  Spain  have  incurred  great  expense  in  the 
improvement  of  Louisiana,  for  which  her  trade  has 
never  indemnified  them.  Large  sums  have  been 
advanced  to  different  companies,  which  have  never 
returned  to  the  treasury.  It  is  fair  that  I  should 
require  payment  for  these.  Were  I  to  regulate  my 
demands  by  the  importance  of  this  territory  to  the 
United  States,  they  would  be  unbounded.  But  being 
obliged  to  part  with  It,  I  shall  be  moderate  in  my 
terms.  Still,  remember  I  must  have  fifty  millions  of 
francs  ($10,000,000),  and  I  will  not  consent  to  take  less. 
I  would  rather  make  some  desperate  effort  to  preserve 
this  hue  country.” 

Negotiations  commenced  that  day.  Soon  Mr. 
Munroe  arrived.  On  the  30th  of  April,  1803,  the 
treaty  was  signed,  the  United  States  paying  fifteen 
million  dollars  for  the  entire  territory.  It  was 
stipulated  by  Napoleon  that  Louisiana  should  be,  as 
soon  as  possible,  incorporated  into  the  Union  ;  and 
that  its  inhabitants  should  enjoy  the  same  rights, 
privileges,  and  immunities  as  other  citizens  of  the 
United  States.  The  third  article  of  the  treaty,  securing 
to  them  these  benefits,  was  drawn  up  by  Napoleon 
himself.  He  presented  it  to  the  plenipotentiaries  with 
these  words : 

“  Make  it  known  to  the  people  of  Louisiana,  that 
we  regret  to  part  with  them ;  that  we  have  stipulates 


LOUISIANA,  ITS  DISCOVERY,  ETC.  g? 

for  all  the  advantages  they  could  desire;  and  that 
France,  in  giving  them  up,  has  insured  to  them  the 
greatest  of  all.  They  could  never  have  prospered 
under  any  European  government,  as  they  will  when 
they  become  independent  But  while  they  enjoy  the 
privileges  of  liberty,  let  them  ever  remember  that  they 
are  French,  and  preserve  for  their  mother  country 
that  affection,  which  a  common  origin  inspires.” 

This  purchase  was  an  immense  acquisition  to  the 
United  States.  “  I  consider/’  said  Mr.  Livingston, 
“that  from  this  day,  the  United  States  take  rank 
with  the  first  powers  of  Europe,  and  now  she  has 
entirely  escaped  from  the  power  of  England.” 

Napoleon  was  also  well  pleased  with  the  transaction, 
“  By  this  cession,”  he  said,  “  I  have  secured  the  power 
of  the  United  States,  and  given  to  England  a  maritime 
rival,  who,  at  some  future  time,  will  humble  her 
pride.” 

The  boundaries  of  this  unexampled  purchase  could 
not  be  clearly  defined.  There  was  not  any  known 
landmarks  to  which  reference  could  be  made.  The 
United  States  thus  had  the  sole  claim  to  the  vast 
territory  west  of  the  Mississippi,  extending  on  the 
north  through  Oregon  to  the  Pacific  Ocean,  and  cm 
the  south  to  the  Mexican  dominions.  From  the  day  of 
the  transfer,  the  natural  resources  of  the  great  valley 
of  the  Mississippi  began  to  be  rapidly  developed. 


$8 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


The  accompanying  map  will  enable  the  reader  more 
fully  to  understand  the  geography  of  the  above 
narrative 


i 


CHAPTER  II L 


Camp  Life  Beyond  the  Alleghanies. 


John  Finley  and  bte  Adventures.— Aspect  of  the  Country, — Boone’s 
Private  Character. — His  Love  for  the  Wilderness. — First  view  of 
Kentucky. — Emigrants’  Dress.— -Hunter’s  Home. — Capture  of 
Boone  and  Stewart  by  the  Indians.— Their  Escape.— Singular 
Incident. 

In  the  year  1 767,  a  bold  hunter  by  the  name  of 

John  Finley  with  two  or  three  companions  crossed 

the  mountain  range  of  the  Alleghanies  into  the  region 

beyond,  now  known  as  Kentucky.  The  mountains 

where  he  crossed,  consisting  of  a  series  of  parallel 

ridges,  some  of  which  were  quite  impassable  save  at 

particular  points,  presented  a  rugged  expanse  nearly 

fifty  miles  in  breadth.  It  took  many  weary  days  for 

these  moccassined  feet  to  traverse  the  wild  solitudes. 

The  Indian  avoids  the  mountains.  He  chooses  the 

smooth  prairie  where  the  buffalo  and  the  elk  graze, 

and  where  the  wild  turkey,  the  grouse  and  the  prairie 

chicken,  wing  their  flight,  or  the  banks  of  some  placid 

stream  over  which  he  can  glide  in  his  birch  canoe,  and 

where  fish  of  every  variety  can  be  taken.  Indeed 

the  Indians,  with  an  eye  for  picturesque  beauty, 

seldom  reared  their  villages  in  the  forest,  whose  glooms 

m 


90 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


repelled  them.  Generally  where  the  forest  approached 
the  stream,  they  clustered  their  wigwams  in  its  edge, 
with  the  tranquil  river  and  the  open  country  spread 
out  before  them. 

John  Finley  and  his  companions  traversed  the  broad 
expanse  of  the  Alleghanies,  without  meeting  any 
signs  of  human  life.  The  extreme  western  ridge  oi 
these  parallel  eminences  or  spurs,  has  received  the 
name  of  the  Cumberland  mountains.  Passing  through 
a  gorge,  which  has  since  then  become  renowned  in 
peace  and  war  as  Cumberland  Gap,  they  entered  upon 
a  vast  undulating  expanse,  of  wonderful  fertility  and 
beauty.  In  its  rivers,  its  plains,  its  forests,  its  gentle 
eminences,  its  bright  skies  and  salubrious  clime,  it 
presented  then,  as  now,  as  attractive  a  residence  for 
man  as  this  globe  can  furnish.  Finley  and  his  com¬ 
panions  spent  several  months  roving  through  this, 
to  them,  new  Eden.  Game  of  every  variety  abounded. 
Through  some  inexplicable  reason,  no  Indians  held 
possession  of  the  country.  But  wandering  tribes, 
whose  homes  and  acknowledged  territory  were  far 
away  in  the  north,  the  west,  and  the  south,  were  ever 
traversing  these  regions  in  hunting  bands.  They 
often  met  in  bloody  encounters.  These  conflicts 
were  so  frequent  and  so  sanguinary,  that  this  realm 
subsequently  received  the  appropriate  nam*  of  “  Th« 
dark  and  bloody  ground/' 


CAMP  LIFE. 


91 


After  an  absence  of  many  months,  Finley  and  his 
companions  returned  to  North  Carolina,  with  the 
most  glowing  accounts  of  the  new  country  which  they 
had  found,  Their  story  of  the  beauty  of  those  realms 
was  so  extravagant,  that  many  regarded  them  as  gross 
exaggerations.  It  subsequently  appeared,  however, 
that  they  were  essentially  true.  A  more  lovely  and 
attractive  region  cannot  be  found  on  earth.  It  is 
man’s  inhumanity  to  man,  mainly,  which  has  ever 
caused  such  countless  millions  to  mourn. 

Daniel  Boone  listened  eagerly  to  the  recital  of  John 
Finley  and  his  associates.  The  story  they  told 
added  fuel  to  the  flame  of  emigration,  which  was 
already  consuming  him.  He  talked  more  and  more 
earnestly  of  his  desire  to  cross  the  mountains.  We 
know  not  what  were  the  emotions  with  which  his  wife 
was  agitated,  in  view  of  her  husband’s  increasing 
desire  for  mother  plunge  into  the  wilderness.  We 
simply  kn  nv  that  through  her  whole  career,  she 
manifested  the  most  tender  solicitude  to  accommodate 
herself  to  the  wishes  of  her  beloved  husband.  Indeed 
he  was  a  man  peculiarly  calculated  to  win  a  noble 
woman’s  love.  Gentle  in  his  demeanor,  and  in  all  his 
utterances,  mild  and  affectionate  in  his  intercourse 
with  his  family,  he  seemed  quite  unconscious  of  the 
heroism  he  manifested  in  those  achievements,  which 
gave  him  ever  increasing  renown. 


92 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


Life  in  the  cabin  of  the  frontiersman,  where  th t 
wants  are  few,  and  the  supplies  abundant,  is  compara* 
tively  a  leisure  life.  These  men  knew  but  little  of 
the  hurry  and  the  bustle  with  which  those  in  the 
crowded  city  engage  daily  in  the  almost  deadly  strug¬ 
gle  for  bread.  There  was  no  want  in  the  cabin  of 
Daniel  Boone.  As  these  two  hardy  adventurers, 
John  Finley  and  Daniel  Boone,  sat  together  hour 
after  hour  by  the  fire,  talking  of  the  new  countiy 
which  Finley  had  explored,  the  hearts  of  both  burned 
writhin  them  again  to  penetrate  those  remote  realms. 
To  them  there  were  no  hardships  in  the  journey.  At 
the  close  of  each  day’s  march,  they  could  in  a  few 
moments  throw  up  a  shelter,  beneath  which  they 
would  enjoy  more  luxurious  sleep  than  the  traveler, 
after  being  rocked  in  the  rail-cars,  can  now  find  on 
the  softest  couches  of  our  metropolitan  hotels.  And 
the  dainty  morsel  cut  with  artistic  skill  from  the  fat 
buffalo,  and  toasted  on  the  end  of  a  ramrod  before 
the  camp  fire,  possessed  a  relish  which  few  epicures 
have  ever  experienced  at  the  most  sumptuous  tables 
in  Paris  or  New  York.  And  as  these  men  seem  to 
have  been  constitutionally  devoid  of  any  emotions  of 
fear  from  wild  beasts,  or  still  wilder  Indians,  the  idea 
of  a  journey  of  a  few  hundred  miles  in  the  wilderness 
was  not  one  to  be  regarded  by  them  with  any  special 
solicitude. 


CAMP  LIFE. 


93 


Gradually  they  formed  a  plan  for  organizing  a 
small  party  to  traverse  these  beautiful  realms  in 
search  of  a  new  home.  A  company  of  six  picked 
men  was  formed,  and  Daniel  Boone  was  chosen  their 
leader.  The  names  of  this  party  were  John  Finley, 
John  Stewart,  Joseph  Holden,  James  Moncey,  and 
William  Cool.  A  journey  of  many  hundred  miles 
was  before  them.  Through  the  vast  mountain  bar¬ 
rier,  which  could  only  be  traversed  by  circuitous  wan¬ 
derings  some  hundreds  of  miles  in  extent,  their  route 
was  utterly  pathless,  and  there  were  many  broad  and 
rapid  streams  to  be  crossed,  which  flowed  through 
the  valleys  between  the  mountain  ridges.  Though 
provision  in  abundance  was  scattered  along  the  way, 
strong  clothing  must  be  provided,  powder  and  bullets 
they  must  take  with  them,  and  all  these  necessaries 
were  to  be  carried  upon  their  backs,  for  no  pack 
horses  could  thread  the  defiles  of  the  mountains  or 
climb  their  rugged  cliffs.  It  was  also  necessary  to 
make  provision  for  the  support  of  the  families  of 
these  adventurers  during  their  absence  of  many 
months.  It  does  not  appear  that  Mrs.  Boone  pre¬ 
sented  any  obstacle  in  the  way  of  her  husband’s  em¬ 
barking  in  this  adventure.  Her  sons  were  old  enough 
to  assist  her  in  the  management  of  the  farm,  and 
game  was  still  to  be  found  in  profusion  in  the  silent 
prairies  and  sublime  forests  which  surrounded  them. 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


In  the  sunny  clime  of  North  Carolina  May  comes 
with  all  the  balminess  and  soft  zephyrs  of  a  more 
northern  summer.  It  was  a  beautiful  morning  on 
the  first  day  of  May,  1769,  when  Boone  and  his  com¬ 
panions  commenced  their  adventurous  journey.  In 
the  brief  narrative  which  Boone  has  given  of  this  ex¬ 
cursion,  we  perceive  that  it  was  with  some  consider¬ 
able  regret  that  he  separated  himself  from  his  much 
loved  wife  and  children  on  the  peaceful  banks  of  fhe 
Yadkin. 

We  must  infer  that  the  first  part  of  their  journey 
was  fatiguing,  for  it  took  them  a  full  month  to  ac¬ 
complish  the  passage  of  the  mountains.  Though  it 
was  less  than  a  hundred  miles  across  these  ridges  in 
a  direct  line,  the  circuitous  route  which  it  was  neces¬ 
sary  to  take  greatly  lengthened  the  distance.  And 
as  they  were  never  in  a  hurry,  they  would  be  very 
likely,  when  coming  to  one  of  the  many  lovely  valleys 
on  the  banks  of  the  Holstein,  or  the  Clinch  river,  to 
be  enticed  to  some  days  of  delay.  Where  now  there 
are  thriving  villages  filled  with  the  hum  of  the  indus¬ 
tries  of  a  high  civilization,  there  was  then  but  the 
solitary  landscape  dotted  with  herds  of  buffalo  and 
of  deer. 

Boone  says  that  in  many  of  these  regions  he  found 
buffalo  roving  in  companies  of  several  hundreds  feed¬ 
ing  upon  the  tender  leaves  of  the  canebrake,  01 


CAMP  LIFE. 


95 


browsing  upon  the  smooth  and  extended  meadows. 
Being  far  removed  from  the  usual  route  of  the  Indian 
hunters,  they  were  very  tame,  manifesting  no  fear  at 
the  approach  of  man. 

On  the  seventh  of  June,  our  adventurers,  at  the 
close  of  a  day  of  arduous  travel,  reached  an  eminence 
of  the  Cumberland  Mountains,  which  gave  them  a 
commanding  and  an  almost  entrancing  view  of  the 
region  beyond,  now  known  as  the  State  of  Kentucky. 
At  the  height  upon  which  they  stood,  the  expanse 
spreading  out  to  the  West,  until  lost  in  the  distant 
horizon,  presented  an  aspect  of  nature’s  loveliness* 
such  as  few  eyes  have  ever  beheld.  The  sun  was 
brilliantly  sinking,  accompanied  by  a  gorgeous  retinue 
of  clouds.  Majestic  forests,  wide-spread  prairies,  and 
lakes  and  rivers,  gilded  by  the  setting  sun,  confirmed 
the  truth  of  the  most  glowing  reports  which  had  been 
heard  from  the  lips  of  Finley.  An  artist  has  seized 
upon  this  incident,  which  he  has  transferred  to 
canvass,  in  a  picture  which  he  has  entitled,  *  Daniel 
Boone’s  first  view  of  Kentucky.”  Engravings  have 
been  so  multiplied  of  this  painting,  that  it  has  become 
familiar  to  most  eyes. 

The  appearance  of  our  adventurers  is  thus  graphi¬ 
cally  described  by  Mr.  Peck,  in  his  excellent  Life  of 
Daniel  Boone. 

**  Their  dress  was  of  the  description  usually  worn  at 


DANIEL  BOONE 


0 

that  peri od  by  all  forest-rangers.  The  outside  garment 
was  a  hunting  shirt,  or  hx>se  open  frock,  made  of 
dressed  deer-skins.  Leggins,  or  drawers,  of  the  same 
material,  covered  the  lower  extremities,  to  which  was 
appended  a  pair  of  moccasins  for  the  feet.  The  cape 
or  collar  of  the  hunting  shirt,  and  the  seams  of  the 
leggins  were  adorned  with  fringes.  The  under¬ 
garments  were  of  coarse  cotton.  A  leather  belt 
encircled  the  body.  On  the  right  side  was  suspended 
the  tomahawk,  to  be  used  as  a  hatchet.  On  the  left 
was  the  hunting-knife,  powder-horn,  bullet-pouch,  and 
other  appendages  indispensable  for  a  hunter.  Each 
person  bore  his  trusty  rifle,  and  as  the  party  made  its 
toilsome  way  amid  the  shrubs,  and  over  the  logs  and 
loose  shrubs,  that  accident  had  thrown  upon  the 
obscure  trail  they  were  following,  each  man  gave  a 
sharp  lookout,  as  though  danger,  or  a  lurking  enemy 
were  near.  Their  garments  were  soiled  and  rent ;  the 
unavoidable  result  of  long  travel  and  exposure  to  the 
heavy  rains  which  had  fallen,  the  weather  having  been 
stormy  and  uncomfortable,  and  they  had  traversed  & 
mountainous  wilderness  for  several  hundred  miles. 
The  leader  of  the  party  was  of  full  size,  with  a  hardy, 
robust,  sinewy  frame,  and  keen  piercing  hazel  eyes, 
that  glanced  with  quickness  at  every  object  as  they 
passed  on,  now  cast  forward  in  the  direction  they 
were  travelling,  for  signs  of  an  old  trail,  and  in  the 


CAMP  LIFE. 


next  moment  directed  askance  into  the  dense  forest 
or  the  deep  ravine,  as  if  watching  some  concealed 
enemy.  The  reader  will  recognise  in  this  man,  the 
pioneer  Boone  at  the  head  of  his  companions/1' 

The  peculiar  character  of  these  men  is  developed 
in  the  fact,  that,  rapidly  descending  the  western  de¬ 
clivity  of  the  mountains,  they  came  to  a  beautiluk 
meadow  upon  the  banks  of  a  little  stream  now  called 
Red  River.  Here  they  reared  their  hut,  and  here 
they  remained  in  apparently  luxurious  idleness  all 
the  summer  ;  and  here  Daniel  Boone  remained  all  of 
the  ensuing  winter.  Their  object  could  scarcely  have 
been  to  obtain  furs,  for  they  could  not  transport  them 
across  the  mountains.  There  were  in  the  vicinity 
quite  a  number  of  salt  springs  which  the  animals  of 
the  forest  frequented  in  immense  numbers.  In  the 
brief  account  which  Boone  gives  of  these  long  months, 
he  simply  says : 

“  In  this  forest,  the  habitation  of  beasts  of  every 
kind  natural  to  America,  we  practised  hunting  with 
great  success  until  the  twenty-second  day  of  Decem¬ 
ber  following.” 

Bears,  buffalo  and  deer  were  mainly  the  large  game 
which  fell  before  their  rifles.  Water-fowl,  and  also 
land  birds  of  almost  every  variety,  were  found  in 
great  profusion.  It  must  have  been  a  strange  life 
which  these  six  men  experienced  during  these  seven 


g?8 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


months  in  the  camp  on  the  silent  waters  of  the  Red 
River.  No  Indians  were  seen,  and  no  traces  of  them 
were  discovered  through  this  period.  The  hunters 
made  several  long  excursions  in  various  directions, 
apparently  examining  the  country  in  reference  to 
their  own  final  settlement  in  it,  and  to  the  introduc¬ 
tion  of  emigrants  from  the  Atlantic  border.  Indeed 
it  has  been  said  that  Daniel  Boone  was  the  secret 
agent  of  a  company  on  the  other  side  of  the  moun¬ 
tains,  who  wished  to  obtain  possession  of  a  large 
extent  of  territory  for  the  formation  of  a  colony  there. 
But  of  this  nothing  with  certainty  is  known.  Yet 
there  must  have  been  some  strong  controlling  motive 
to  have  induced  these  men  to  remain  so  long  in  their 
camp,  which  consisted  simply  of  a  shed  of  logs,  on 
the  banks  of  this  solitary  stream. 

Three  sides  of  the  hut  were  enclosed.  The  inter¬ 
stices  between  the  logs  were  filled  with  moss  or  clay. 
The  roof  was  also  carefully  covered  with  bark,  so  as 
to  be  impervious  to  rain.  The  floor  was  spread  ovet 
with  dry  leaves  and  with  the  fragrant  twigs  of  the 
hemlock,  presenting  a  very  inviting  couch  for  the  re* 
pose  of  weary  men.  The  skins  of  buffaloes  and  of 
bears  presented  ample  covering  for  their  night's  re¬ 
pose.  The  front  of  the  hut,  facing  the  south,  was 
entirely  open,  before  which  blazed  their  camp-fire. 
Here  the  men  seem  to  have  been  very  happy.  The 


CAMP  LIFE. 


99 


climate  was  mild  ;  they  were  friendly  to  each  other ; 
they  had  good  health  and  abundance  of  food  was 
found  in  their  camp. 

On  the  twenty-second  of  December,  Boone,  with 
one  of  his  companions,  John  Stewart,  set  out  on  one 
of  their  exploring  tours.  There  were  parts  of  the 
country  called  canebrakes,  covered  with  cane  growing 
so  thickly  together  as  to  be  quite  impenetrable  to  the 
hunter.  Through  portions  of  these  the  buffaloes  had 
trampled  their  way  in  large  companies,  one  following 
another,  opening  paths  called  streets.  These  streets 
had  apparently  been  trodden  for  ages.  Following 
these  paths,  Boone  and  his  companion  had  advanced 
several  miles  from  their  camp,  when  suddenly  a  large 
party  of  Indians  sprang  from  their  concealment  and 
seized  them  both  as  captives.  The  action  was  so 
sudden  that  there  was  no  possibility  of  resistance.  In 
the  following  words  Boone  describes  this  event : 

u  This  day  John  Stewart  and  I  had  a  pleasing  ram¬ 
ble,  but  fortune  changed  the  scene  in  the  close  of  it 
We  had  passed  through  a  great  forest,  on  which  stood 
myriads  of  trees,  some  gay  with  blossoms,  others  rich 
with  fruits.  Nature  was  here  a  series  of  wonders  and 
a  fund  of  delight.  Here  she  displayed  her  ingenuity 
and  industry  in  a  variety  of  flowers  and  fruits,  beau¬ 
tifully  colored,  elegantly  shaped,  and  charmingly 
flavored ;  and  we  were  diverted  with  innumerable 


IOO 


DANIEL  BCONE, 


animals  presenting  themselves  perpetually  to  our 
view. 

“  In  the  decline  of  the  day,  near  Kentucky  river,  as 
we  ascended  the  brow  of  a  small  hill,  a  number  of 
Indians  rushed  out  upon  us  from  a  thick  canebrake 
and  made  us  prisoners.  The  time  of  our  sorrow  was 
now  arrived.  They  plundered  us  of  what  we  had, 
and  kept  us  in  confinement  seven  days,  treating  us 
with  common  savage  usage.” 

The  peculiar  character  of  Boone  was  here  remark¬ 
ably  developed.  His  whole  course  of  life  had  made 
him  familiar  with  the  manners  and  customs  of  the 
Indians.  They  were  armed  only  with  bows  and  ar¬ 
rows.  He  had  the  death-dealing  rifle  which  they 
knew  not  how  to  use.  His  placid  temper  was  never 
ruffled  by  elation  in  prosperity  or  despair  in  adver¬ 
sity.  He  assumed  perfect  contentment  with  his  lot, 
cultivated  friendly  relations  with  them,  taught  them 
many  things  they  did  not  know,  and  aided  them  in 
all  the  ways  in  his  power.  His  rifle  ball  would  in¬ 
stantly  strike  down  the  buffalo,  when  the  arrow  of  the 
Indian  would  only  goad  him  to  frantic  flight. 

The  Indians  admired  the  courage  of  their  captive, 
appreciated  his  skill,  and  began  to  regard  him  as  a 
friend  and  a  helper.  They  relaxed  their  vigilance* 
while  every  day  they  were  leading  their  prisoners  far 
away  from  their  camp  into  the  boundless  West 


CAMP  LIFE. 


IOl 


Boone  was  so  well  acquainted  with  the  Indian  char* 
acter  as  to  be  well  aware  that  any  attempt  to  escape, 
if  unsuccessful,  would  cause  his  immediate  death. 
The  Indians,  exasperated  by  what  they  would  deem 
such  an  insult  to  their  hospitality,  would  immediately 
bury  the  tomahawk  in  his  brain.  Thus  seven  days 
and  nights  passed  away. 

At  the  close  of  each  day’s  travel  the  Indians  selected 
some  attractive  spot  for  the  night’s  encampment  or 
bivouac,  according  to  the  state  of  the  weather,  near 
some  spring  or  stream.  Here  they  built  a  rousing 
lire,  roasted  choice  cuts  from  the  game  they  had 
taken,  and  feasted  abundantly  with  jokes  and  laugh¬ 
ter,  and  many  boastful  stories  of  their  achievements. 
They  then  threw  themselves  upon  the  ground  for 
s!eep/  though  some  one  was  appointed  to  keep  a  watch 
over  their  captives.  But  deceived  by  the  entire  con¬ 
tentment  and  friendliness,  feigned  by  Boone,  and  by 
Stewart  who  implicitly  followed  the  counsel  of  his 
leader’s  superior  mind,  all  thoughts  of  any  attempt  of 
their  captives  to  escape  soon  ceased  to  influence  the 
savages. 

On  the  seventh  night  after  the  capture,  the  Indians* 
gorged  with  an  abundant  feast,  were  all  soundly 
asleep.  It  was  midnight  The  flickering  fire  burned 
feebly.  The  night  was  dark.  They  were  in  the 
midst  of  an  apparently  boundless  forest  The  favor- 


102 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


able  hour  for  an  attempt  to  escape  had  come.  But  it 
was  full  of  peril.  Failure  was  certain  death,  for  the 
Indians  deemed  it  one  of  the  greatest  of  all  crimes 
for  a  captive  who  had  been  treated  with  kindness  to 
attempt  to  escape.  A  group  of  fierce  savages  were 
sleeping  around,  each  one  of  whom  accustomed  to 
midnight  alarms,  was  supposed  to  sleep,  to  use  an 
expressive  phrase,  “  with  one  eye  open.”  Boone, 
who  had  feigned  sound  slumber,  cautiously  awoke 
his  companion  who  was  asleep  and  motioned  him  to 
follow.  The  rustling  of  a  leaf,  the  crackling  of  a 
twig,  would  instantly  cause  every  savage  to  grasp  his 
bow  and  arrow  and  spring  from  the  ground.  Fortu¬ 
nately  the  Indians  had  allowed  their  captives  to  re¬ 
tain  their  guns,  which  had  proved  so  valuable  in 
obtaining  game. 

With  step  as  light  as  the  fall  of  a  feather  these  men 
with  moccasined  feet  crept  from  the  encampment. 
After  a  few  moments  of  intense  solicitude,  they  found 
themselves  in  the  impenetrable  gloom  of  the  forest, 
and  their  captors  still  undisturbed.  With  vastly 
superior  native  powers  to  the  Indian,  and  equally  accus¬ 
tomed  to  forest  life,  Boone  was  in  all  respects  their 
superior.  With  the  instinct  of  the  bee,  he  made  a 
straight  line  towards  the  encampment  they  had  left, 
with  the  locality  of  which  the  Indians  were  not  ac¬ 
quainted.  The  peril  which  menaced  them  added 


CAMP  LIFE. 


IOJ 

wings  to  their  flight.  It  was  mid-winter,  and  though 
not  very  cold  in  that  climate*  fortunately  for  them,  the 
December  nights  were  long. 

Six  precious  hours  would  pass  before  the  dawn  of 
the  morning  would  struggle  through  the  tree-tops. 
Till  then  the  bewildered  Indians  could  obtain  no  clue 
whatever  to  the  direction  of  their  flight.  Carefully 
guarding  against  leaving  any  traces  of  their  footsteps 
behind  them,  and  watching  with  an  eagle  eye  lest 
they  should  encounter  any  other  band  of  savages, 
they  pressed  forward  hour  after  hour  with  sinews  ap¬ 
parently  as  tireless  as  if  they  had  been  wrought  of  iron. 
When  the  fugitives  reached  their  camp  they  found  it 
plundered  and  deserted.  Whether  the  red  men  had 
discovered  it  and  carried  off  their  companions  as 
prisoners,  or  whether  the  white  men  in  a  panic  had 
destroyed  what  they  could  not  remove  and  had  at¬ 
tempted  a  retreat  to  the  settlements,  was  never 
known.  It  is  probable  that  in  some  way  they  per¬ 
ished  in  the  wilderness,  and  that  their  fate  is  to  be 
added  to  the  thousands  of  tragedies  occurring  in  this 
world  which  no  pen  has  recorded. 

The  intrepid  Boone  and  his  companion  Stewart 
seemed,  however,  to  have  no  idea  of  abandoning  their 
encampment  But  apprehensive  that  the  Indians 
might  have  discovered  their  retreat,  they  reared  a 
small  hut  in  another  spot,  still  more  secret  and 


104 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


secure.  It  h  difficult  to  imagine  what  motive  couM 
have  led  these  two  men  to  remain  any  longer  in  these 
solitudes,  five  hundred  miles  from  home,  exposed  to 
bo  many  privations  and  to  such  fearful  peril.  Not¬ 
withstanding  the  utmost  care  in  husbanding  their 
resources,  their  powder  and  lead  were  rapidly  disap¬ 
pearing,  and  there  was  no  more  to  be  obtained  in  the 
wilderness.  But  here  they  remained  a  month,  doing 
apparently  nothing,  but  living  luxuriously,  according 
to  their  ideas  of  good  cheer.  The  explanation  is 
probably  to  be  found  in  the  fascination  of  this  life  of 
a  hunter,  which  once  enjoyed,  seems  almost  irresist¬ 
ible,  even  to  those  accustomed  to  all  the  appliances 
of  a  high  civilization. 

A  gentleman  from  New  York,  who  spent  a  winter 
among  the  wild  scenes  of  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
describes  in  the  following  graphic  language,  the  effect 
of  these  scenes  upon  his  own  mind  : 

“  When  I  turned  my  horse’s  head  from  Pikes  Peak 
I  quite  regretted  the  abandonment  of  my  mountain 
life,  solitary  as  it  was,  and  more  than  once  thought  of 
again  taking  the  trail  to  the  Salado  Valley,  where  I 
enjoyed  such  good  sport.  Apart  from  the  feeling  of 
loneliness,  which  anyone  in  my  situation  must  natu¬ 
rally  have  experienced,  surrounded  by  the  stupendous 
works  of  nature,  which  in  all  their  solitary  grandeur 
frowned  upon  me,  there  was  something  inexpressibly 


CAMP  LIFjE. 


105 

exhilarating  in  the  sensation  of  positive  freedom  from 
all  worldly  care,  and  a  consequent  expansion  of  the 
sinews,  as  it  were,  of  mind  and  body,  which  made  me 
feel  elastic  as  a  ball  of  india-rubber,  and  in  such  a 
state  of  perfect  ease,  that  no  more  dread  of  scalping 
Indians  entered  my  mind,  than  if  I  had  been  sitting  in 
Broadway,  in  one  of  the  windows  of  the  Astor 
House. 

"  A  citizen  of  the  world,  I  never  found  any  difficulty 
in  investing  my  resting  place  wherever  it  might  be, 
with  the  attributes  of  a  home.  Although  liable  to 
the  accusation  of  barbarism,  I  must  confess  that  the 
very  happiest  moments  of  my  life  have  been  spent  in 
the  wilderness  of  the  Far  West.  I  never  recall  but 
with  pleasure  the  remembrance  of  my  solitary  camp 
cn  the  Bayou  Salado,  with  no  friend  near  me  more 
faithful  than  my  rifle.  With  a  plentiful  supply  of  dry 
pine  logs  on  the  fire,  and  its  cheerful  blaze  streaming 
far  up  into  the  sky,  illuminating  the  valley  far  and 
near,  I  would  sit  enjoying  the  genial  warmth,  and 
watch  the  blue  smoke  as  it  curled  upward,  building 
castles  in  its  vapory  wreaths.  Scarcely  did  I  ever 
wish  to  change  such  hours  of  freedom  for  all  the 
luxuries  of  civilized  life ;  and,  unnatural  and  extra¬ 
ordinary  as  it  may  appear,  yet  such  are  the  fascina¬ 
tions  of  the  life  of  the  mountain  hunter,  that  I  believe 
that  not  one  instance  could  be  adduced  of  even  the 


io 6 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


most  polished  and  civilized  of  men,  who  had  one© 
tasted  the  sweets  of  its  attendant  liberty,  and  freedom 
frem  every  worldly  care,  not  regretting  to  exchange 
them  for  the  monotonous  life  of  the  settlements,  and 
not  sighing  and  sighing  again  for  its  pleasures  and 
allurements. 

“  A  hunter  s  camp  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  is  quite 
a  picture.  It  is  invariably  made  in  a  picturesque 
locality,  for,  like  the  Indian,  the  white  hunter  has  an 
eye  to  the  beautiful.  Nothing  can  be  more  social  and 
cheering  than  the  welcome  blaze  of  the  camp-fire  on 
a  cold  winter’s  night,  and  nothing  more  amusing  oi 
entertaining,  if  not  instructive,  than  the  rough  con¬ 
versation  of  the  simple-minded  mountaineers,  whose 
nearly  daily  task  is  all  of  exciting  adventure,  since 
their  whole  existence  is  spent  in  scenes  of  peril  and 
privation.  Consequently  the  narration  is  a  tale  of 
thrilling  accidents,  and  hair-breadth  escapes,  which, 
though  simple  matter-of-fact  to  them,  appears  a 
startling  romance  to  those  unacquainted  with  the 
lives  led  by  those  men,  who,  with  the  sky  for  a  roof, 
and  their  rifles  to  supply  them  with  food  and  clothing, 
call  no  man  lord  or  master,  and  are  as  free  as  the 
game  they  follow.” 

There  are  many  events  which  occurred  in  the  lives 
of  Boone  and  his  companions,  which  would  seem 
absolutely  incredible  were  they  not  sustained  by 


CAMP  LIFE. 


107 


evidence  beyond  dispute.  Boone  and  Stewart  were  in 
a  boundless,  pathless,  wilderness  of  forests,  mountains, 
rivers  and  lakes.  Their  camp  could  not  be  reached 
from  the  settlements,  but  by  a  journey  of  many  weeks, 
apparently  without  the  smallest  clue  to  its  location. 
And  yet  the  younger  brother  of  Boone,  upon  whom 
had  been  conferred  his  father’s  singular  baptismal 
name  of  Squire,  set  out  with  a  companion  to  cross 
the  mountains,  in  search  of  Daniel.  One  day  in  the 
latter  part  of  January,  Boone  and  Stewart  were  quite 
alarmed  in  seeing  two  men  approach  their  camp. 
They  supposed  of  course  that  they  were  Indians,  and 
that  they  were  probably  followed  by  a  numerous  band. 
Escape  was  impossible.  Captivity  and  death  seemed 
certain.  But  to  their  surprise  and  delight,  the  two 
strangers  proved  to  be  white  men ;  one  the  brother 
of  Daniel  Boone,  and  the  other  a  North  Carolinian 
who  had  accompanied  him.  They  brought  with  them 
quite  a  supply  of  powder  and  lead ;  inestimable 
treasures  in  the  remote  wilderness.  Daniel,  in  his 
Autobiography,  in  the  following  simple  strain,  alludes 
to  this  extraordinary  occurrence  : 

“  About  this  time  my  brother  Squire  Boone,  with 
another  adventurer,  who  came  to  explore  the  country 
shortly  after  us,  was  wandering  through  the  forest, 
determined  to  find  me  if  possible,  and  accidentally 
found  oui  camp.  Notwithstanding  the  unfortunate 


Iq8 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


circumstances  of  our  company,  and  our  dangerous 
situation  as  surrounded  by  hostile  savages,  our 
meeting  so  fortunately  in  the  wilderness  made  us 
reciprocally  sensible  of  the  utmost  satisfaction.  So 
much  does  friendship  triumph  over  misfortune,  that 
sorrows  and  sufferings  vanish  at  the  meeting,  not  only 
of  real  friends,  but  of  the  most  distant  acquaintances, 
and  substitute  happiness  in  their  room/’ 

Our  hardy  pioneer,  far  more  familiar  with  his  rifle 
than  his  pen,  comments  as  follows  on  their  condition : 

“  We  were  in  a  helpless,  dangerous  situation ; 
exposed  daily  to  perils  and  death,  among  savages 
and  wild  beasts.  Not  a  white  man  in  the  country  but 
ourselves.  Thus  situated,  many  hundred  miles  from 
our  families,  in  the  howling  wilderness,  I  believe  few 
would  have  equally  enjoyed  the  happiness  we  expe¬ 
rienced.  I  often  observed  to  my  brother,  ‘You  see 
how  little  nature  requires  to  be  satisfied.  Felicity, 
the  companion  of  content,  is  rather  found  in  our  own 
breasts,  than  in  the  enjoyment  of  external  things  ;  and 
1  firmly  believe  it  requires  but  a  little  philosophy  to 
make  a  man  happy  in  whatsoever  state  he  is.  This 
consists  in  a  full  resignation  to  the  will  of  Providence ; 
and  a  resigned  soul  finds  pleasure  in  a  path  strewed 
with  bners  and  thorns.*  * 


CHAPTER  V. 


Indian  Warfare, 


Alleghany  Ridges. — Voyage  in  a  canoe. — Speech  of  Logan. — Battle  at 
the  Kanawha. — Narrative  of  Francis  Marion. — Important  com¬ 
mission  t'  Boone. — Council  at  Circleville. — Treaty  of  Peace.— 
Imlay’s  description  of  Kentucky. — Settlement  right. — Richard 
Henderson. — Boone’s  letter. — Fort  at  Boonesborough. 

The  valley  of  the  Clinch  liver  is  but  one  of  the 
many  magnificent  ravines  amid  the  gigantic  ranges 
of  the  Alleghany  mountains.  Boone,  speaking  of 
these  ridges  which  he  so  often  had  occasion  to  cross, 
says  : 

“  These  mountains  in  the  wilderness,  as  we  pass 
from  the  old  settlements  in  Virginia  to  Kentucky,  are 
ranged  in  a  south-west  and  north-east  direction  and 
are  of  great  length  and  breadth  and  not  far  distant 
from  each  other.  Over  them  nature  hath  formed 
passes  that  are  less  difficult  than  might  be  expected 
from  a  view  of  such  huge  piles.  The  aspect  of  these 
cliffs  is  so  wild  and  horrid  that  it  is  impossible  to  be¬ 
hold  them  without  terror.  The  spectator  is  apt  to 
imagine  that  nature  has  formerly  suffered  some  vio* 
lent  convulsion,  and  that  these  are  the  dismembered 

remains  of  the  dreadful  shock.” 

id  (i  m 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


it  o 

One  cannot  but  regret  that  no  memorials  are  left 
of  a  wonderful  journey,  full  of  romantic  interest  and 
exciting  adventure,  which  Boone  at  one  time  took  to 
the  Falls  of  the  Ohio,  to  warn  some  surveyors  of  their 
danger.  He  reached  them  in  safety,  rescued  them 
from  certain  death,  and  conducted  them  triumphantly 
back  to  the  settlements.  So  long  as  the  white  men, 
with  their  rifles,  could  keep  upon  the  open  prairie, 
they  could  defend  themselves  from  almost  any  number 
of  Indians,  who  could  only  assail  them  with  bows  and 
arrows.  But  the  moment  they  entered  the  forest,  or 
any  ravine  among  the  hills,  the  little  band  was  liable 
to  hear  the  war-whoop  of  a  thousand  Indian  braves  in 
the  ambush  around,  and  to  be  assailed  by  a  storm  of 
arrows  and  javelins  from  unseen  hands. 

A  few  days  after  Boone’s  arrival  at  the  encamp¬ 
ment  near  the  Falls  of  the  Ohio,  and  as  the  surveyors 
were  breaking  camp  in  preparation  for  their  precipi¬ 
tate  retreat,  several  of  their  number  who  had  gone  to 
a  spring  at  a  short  distance  from  the  camp,  were  sud¬ 
denly  attacked  on  the  twentieth  of  July  by  a  large 
party  of  Indians.  One  was  instantly  killed.  The 
rest  being  nearly  surrounded,  fled  as  best  they  could 
in  all  directions.  One  man  hotly  pursued,  rushed 
along  an  Indian  trail  till  he  reached  the  Ohio  river. 
Here  he  chanced  to  find  a  bark  canoe.  He  jumped 
into  it  and  pushed  out  into  the  rapid  stream  till  be- 


INDIAN  WARFARE. 


If! 

yond  the  reach  of  the  Indian  arrows.  The  swift 
current  bore  him  down  the  river,  by  curves  and  head¬ 
lands,  till  he  was  far  beyond  the  encampment. 

To  return  against  the  strong  flood,  with  the  savages 
watching  for  him,  seemed  perilous,  if  not  impossible. 
It  is  said  that  he  floated  down  the  whole  length  of 
the  Ohio  and  of  the  Mississippi,  a  distance  not  less 
probably,  counting  the  curvatures  of  the  stream,  than 
two  thousand  miles,  and  finally  found  his  way  by  sea 
to  Philadelphia,  probably  in  some  vessel  which  he 
encountered  near  the  coast.  This  is  certainly  one  of 
the  most  extraordinary  voyages  which  ever  occurred. 
It  was  mid-summer,  so  that  he  could  not  suffer  from 
cold.  Grapes  often  hung  in  rich  clusters  in  the  for¬ 
ests,  which  lined  the  river  banks,  and  various  kinds  of 
nutritious  berries  were  easily  gathered  to  satisfy 
hunger. 

As  these  men  never  went  into  the  forest  without 
the  rifle  and  a  supply  of  ammunition,  and  as  they 
never  lost  a  bullet  by  an  inaccurate  shot,  it  is  not 
probable  that  our  adventurer  suffered  from  hunger. 
But  the  incidents  of  such  a  voyage  must  have  been 
so  wonderful,  that  it  is  greatly  to  be  regretted  that 
we  have  no  record  of  them. 

The  apprehensions  of  Lord  Dunmore,  respecting 
the  conspiracy  of  the  Indians,  proved  to  have  been 
well  founded.  Though  Boone,  with  his  great  sagacity, 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


I  12 

led  his  little  band  by  safe  paths  back  to  the  set 
tlements,  a  very  fierce  warfare  immediately  blazed 
forth  all  along  the  Virginia  frontier.  This  conflict 
with  the  Indians,  very  brief  and  very  bloody,  is  usu¬ 
ally  called  Lord  Dunmore’s  war.  The  white  men 
have  told  the  story,  and  they  admit  that  the  war 
“  arose  in  consequence  of  cold-blooded  murders  com¬ 
mitted  upon  inoffensive  Indians  in  the  region  of  the 
upper  Ohio.” 

One  of  the  provocatives  to  this  war  was  the  assas¬ 
sination  by  fiend-like  white  men  of  the  whole  family 
of  the  renowned  Indian  chief,  Logan,  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  city  of  Wheeling.  Logan  had  been  the  friend 
of  the  white  man.  But  exasperated  by  these  outrages, 
he  seized  his  tomahawk  breathing  only  vengeance. 
General  Gibson  was  sent  to  one  of  the  Shawanese 
towns  to  confer  with  Logan  and  to  detach  him  from 
the  conspiracy  against  the  whites.  It  was  on  this 
occasion  that  Logan  made  that  celebrated  speech 
whose  pathetic  eloquence  will  ever  move  the  human 
heart : 

“  I  appeal  to  any  white  man  to  say  if  ever  he 
entered  Logan’s  cabin  hungry,  and  I  gave  him  not 
meat ;  if  ever  he  came  cold  or  naked  and  I  gave  him 
not  clothing.  During  the  course  of  the  last  long  and 
bloody  war,  Logan  remained  in  his  tent,  an  advocate 
of  peace.  Nay,  such  was  my  love  for  the  whites* 


INDIAN  WARFARE. 


n 

those  of  my  own  country  pointed  at  me  and  said, 
4  Logan  is  the  friend  of  white  men/  I  had  even 
thought  to  live  with  you,  but  for  the  injuries  of  one 
man.  Colonel  Cresap,  the  last  spring,  in  cool  blood 
and  unprovoked,  cut  off  all  the  relatives  of  Logan,  not 
sparing  even  my  women  and  children.  There  runs 
not  a  drop  of  my  blood  in  the  veins  of  any  human 
creature.  This  called  on  me  for  revenge.  I  have 
killed  many.  I  have  fully  glutted  my  vengeance. 
For  my  country,  I  rejoice  at  the  beams  of  peace. 
Yet  do  not  harbor  the  thought  that  mine  is  the  joy 
of  fear.  Logan  never  felt  fear.  He  will  not  turn  on 
his  heel  to  save  his  life.  Who  is  there  to  mourn  for 
Logan/’ 

This  war,  though  it  lasted  but  a  few  months,  was 
very  sanguinary.  Every  exposed  point  on  the  ex¬ 
tensive  Virginia  frontier  was  assailed.  Cabins  were 
burned,  harvests  were  trampled  down,  cattle  driven 
off,  and  men,  women,  and  children  either  butchered 
or  carried  into  captivity  more  dreadful  than  death. 
The  peril  was  so  dreadful  that  the  most  extraordinary 
efforts  on  the  part  of  the  Virginian  Government  were 
requisite  to  meet  it.  An  army  of  three  thousand  me® 
was  raised  in  the  utmost  haste.  This  force  was  in 
two  divisions.  One  of  eleven  hundred  men  rendez¬ 
voused  in  what  is  now  Green  Briar  county,  and  marched 
down  the  valley  of  the  Great  Kanawha,  to  its  en- 


1 14 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


trance  into  the  Ohio,  at  a  place  now  named  Point 
Pleasant. 

Lord  Dunmore  with  the  remaining  nineteen  hundred 
crossed  the  Cumberland  mountains  to  Wheeling,  and 
thence  descended  the  Ohio  in  boats,  to  form  a  junction 
with  the  other  party  at  the  mouth  of  the  Great 
Kanawha.  Thence  united,  they  were  to  march  across 
the  country  about  forty  miles  due  west,  to  the  valley 
of  the  Scioto.  The  banks  of  this  lovely  stream  were 
lined  with  Indian  villages,  in  a  high  state  of  prosperity. 
Corn-fields  waved  luxuriantly  around  their  humble 
dwellings.  They  were  living  at  peace  with  each  other, 
and  relied  far  more  upon  the  produce  of  the  soil  than 
upon  the  chase  for  their  support. 

It  was  the  plan  of  Lord  Dunmore  to  sweep  this 
whole  region  with  utter  desolation,  and  entirely  to 
exterminate  the  Indians.  But  the  savages  did  not 
await  his  arrival  in  their  own  homes.  Many  of  them 
had  obtained  guns  and  ammunition  from  the  French 
in  Canada,  with  whom  they  lived  on  friendly  terms. 

In  a  well-ordered  army  for  Indian  warfare,  whose 
numbers  cannot  now  with  certainty  be  known,  they 
crossed  the  Ohio,  below  the  mouth  of  the  Great 
Kanawha,  and  marching  through  the  forest,  in  the  rear 
of  the  hills,  fell  by  surprise  very  impetuously  upon  the 
rear  of  the  encampment  at  Point  Pleasant.  The  Indians 
seemed  to  be  fully  aware  that  their  only  safety  was 


INDIAN  WARFARE. 


11$ 

In  the  energies  of  desperation.  One  of  the  most  bloody 
battles  was  then  fought,  which  ever  occuned  in  Indian 
warfare.  Though  the  Virginians  with  far  more  potent 
weapons  repelled  their  assailants,  they  paid  dearly 
for  their  victory.  Tv/o  hundred  end  fifteen  of  the 
Virginians  fell  dead  or  severely  wounded  beneath  the 
bullets  or  arrows  of  their  foes.  The  loss  which  the 
savages  incurred  could  never  be  ascertained  with  accu¬ 
racy.  It  was  generally  believed  that  several  hundred 
of  their  warriors  were  struck  down  on  that  bloody 
field. 

The  whites,  accustomed  to  Indian  warfare  and 
skilled  in  the  use  of  the  rifle,  scarcely  fired  a  shot 
which  did  not  reach  its  mark.  In  the  cautious  war¬ 
fare  between  the  tribes,  fighting  with  arrows  from 
behind  trees,  the  loss  of  fifteen  or  twenty  warriors 
was  deemed  a  great  calamity.  Now,  to  find  hun¬ 
dreds  of  their  braves  weltering  in  blood,  was  awful 
beyond  precedent,  and  gave  them  new  ideas  of  the 
prowess  of  the  white  man.  In  this  conflict  the  In¬ 
dians  manifested  a  very  considerable  degree  of  mili¬ 
tary  ability.  Having  constructed  a  breastwork  of 
logs,  behind  which  they  could  retreat  in  case  of  a  re¬ 
pulse,  they  formed  in  a  long  line  extending  across 
the  point  from  the  Kanawha  to  the  Ohio.  Then 
they  advanced  in  the  impetuous  attack  through  the 
forest,  protected  by  logs,  and  stumps,  and  trees.  Had 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


ii  6 

they  succeeded  in  their  assault,  there  would  have 
been  no  possible  escape  for  the  Virginian  troops, 
They  must  have  been  annihilated. 

The  Indians  had  assembled  on  that  field  nearly  all 
the  warriors  of  four  powerful  tribes  ;  the  Shawnee, 
Delaware,  Mingo  and  Wyandotts.  After  the  repulse, 
panic-stricken,  they  fled  through  the  wilderness,  un¬ 
able  to  make  any  other  stand  against  their  foes. 
Lord  Dunmore,  with  his  triumphant  army  flushed 
with  victory  and  maddened  by  its  serious  loss, 
marched  rapidly  down  the  left  bank  of  the  Ohio, 
and  then  crossed  into  the  valley  of  the  Scioto  to. 
sweep  it  with  flame.  We  have  no  account  of  the  de¬ 
tails  of  this  cruel  expedition,  but  the  following  graphic 
description  of  a  similar  excursion  into  the  land  be¬ 
longing  to  the  Clierokees,  will  give  one  a  vivid  idea 
of  the  nature  of  these  conflicts. 

The  celebrated  Francis  Marion,  who  was  an  officer 
in  the  campaign,  and  an  eye-witness  of  the  scenes 
which  he  describes,  gives  the  following  narrative  of 
the  events  which  ensued  : 

“  Now  commenced  a  scene  of  devastation  scarcely 
paralleled  in  the  annals  of  this  continent.  For  thirty 
days  the  army  employed  themselves  in  burning  and 
ravaging  the  settlements  of  the  broken-spirited  In¬ 
dians.  No  less  than  fourteen  of  their  towns  were 
laid  in  ashes;  their  granaries  were  yielded  to  th<* 


INDIAN  WARFARE. 


1 17 

flames,  their  corn-fields  ravaged,  while  the  miserable 
fugitives,  flying  from  the  sword,  took  refuge  with 
their  starving  families  among  the  mountains.  As  the 
lands  were  rich  and  the  season  had  been  favorable, 
the  corn  was  bending  under  the  double  weight  of 
lusty  roasting  ears  and  pods  and  clustering  beans. 
The  furrows  seemed  to  rejoice  under  their  precious 
loads.  The  fields  stood  thick  with  bread.  We  en¬ 
camped  the  first  night  in  the  woods  near  the  fields 
where  the  whole  army  feasted  on  the  young  corn, 
which,  with  fat  venison,  made  a  most  delicious  treat. 

The  next  morning,  by  oicP1'  of  Col.  Grant,  we  pro- 

* 

ceeded  to  burn  down  the  Indian  cabins. 

“  Some  of  our  men  seemed  to  enjoy  this  cruel  work, 

♦ 

laughing  very  heartily  at  the  curling  flames  as  they 
mounted  loud  crackling  over  the  tops  of  the  huts. 
But  to  me  it  appeared  a  shocking  sight.  *  Poor  crea¬ 
tures  P  thought  I,  *w e  surely  need  not  grudge  you 
such  miserable  habitations,/  But  when  we  came  ac¬ 
cording  to  orders  to  cut  down  the  fields  of  corn,  I 
could  scarcely  refrain  from  tears ;  for  who  could  see 
the  stalks  that  stood  so  stately,  with  broad  green 
leaves  and  gaily  tasseled  shocks,  filled  with  the  sweet 
milky  flour,  the  staff  of  life, — who,  I  say,  could  see 
without  grief  these  sacred  plants  sinking  under  our 
swords  with  all  their  precious  load,  to  wither  and  rot 
untested  in  the  fields. 


nS 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


“I  saw  everywhere  around  the  footsteps  of  little 
Indian  children,  where  they  had  lately  played  unde? 
shelter  of  the  rustling  corn.  No  doubt  they  had  often 
looked  up  with  joy  to  the  swelling  shocks,  and  were 
gladdened  when  they  thought  of  the  abundant  cakes 
for  the  coming  winter.  ‘When  we  are  gone/  thought 
I,  ‘  they  will  return,  and  peeping  through  the  weeds, 
with  tearful  eyes,  will  mark  the  ghastly  ruin  poured 
over  their  homes  and  the  happy  fields  where  they 
had  so  often  played/” 

Such  was  life  among  the  comparatively  intelligent 
tribes  in  the  beautiful  a1'  "  lertile  valley  of  the  Scioto. 
Such  was  the  scene  of  devastation,  or  of  “punishing 
the  Indians,”  as  it  was  called,  upon  which  Lord  Dun- 
more’s  army  entered,  intending  to  sweep  the  valley 
with  fire  and  sword  from  its  opening  at  the  Ohio  to 
its  head  waters  leagues  away  in  the  North. 

In  this  campaign  the  Indians,  while  with  much 
sagacity  they  combined  their  main  force  to  encounter 
the  army  under  Lord  Dunmore,  detached  separate 
bands  of  picked  warriors  to  assail  the  settlements  on 
the  frontier  at  every  exposed  point.  These  bands  of 
painted  savages,  emerging  from  the  solitudes  of  the 
forests  at  midnight,  would  fall  with  hideous  yells  upon 
the  lone  cabin  of  the  settler,  or  upon  a  little  cluster  of 
log  huts,  and  in  a  few  hours  nothing  would  be  left 
but  smouldering  ruins  and  gory  corpses. 


INDIAN  WARFARE. 


1 1§ 

To  Daniel  Boone,  who  had  manifested  wonderful 
skill  in  baffling  all  the  stratagems  of  Indian  warfare, 
was  assigned  the  difficult  and  infinitely  important  task 
of  protecting  these  frontiers.  Three  garrisons  were 
placed  under  his  command,  over  which  he  exercised 
supreme  control.  He  located  them  at  the  most  avail¬ 
able  points ;  noiselessly  passed  from  one  to  the  other 
to  see  that  they  were  fortified  according  to  the  most 
approved  principles  of  military  engineering  then 
known  in  the  forest.  His  scouts  were  everywhere,  to 
give  prompt  notice  of  any  approach  of  hostile  bands. 
Thus  this  quiet,  silent  man,  with  great  efficiency,  ful¬ 
filled  his  mission  to  universal  satisfaction.  Without 
seeking  fame,  without  thinking  even  of  such  a  reward 
for  his  services,  his  sagacity  and  his  virtues  were  rap¬ 
idly  giving  him  a  very  enviable  reputation  through¬ 
out  all  those  regions. 

The  discomfited  Indians  had  become  thoroughly 
disheartened,  and  sent  couriers  to  Lord  Dunmore  im¬ 
ploring  peace.  Comstock,  their  chief,  seems  to  have 
been  a  man  not  only  of  strong  native  powers  of  mind, 
but  of  unusual  intelligence.  With  quite  a  brilliant 
retinue  of  his  warriors,  he  met  Lord  Dunmore  in 
council  at  a  point  in  the  valley  of  the  Scioto,  about 
four  miles  south  of  the  present  city  of  Circleville. 
Comstock  himself  opened  the  deliberations  with  a 
speech  of  great  dignity  and  argumentative  power.  In 


120 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


a  loud  voice,  which  was  heard,  as  he  intended,  by  all 
in  the  camp,  he  portrayed  the  former  prosperous  con¬ 
dition  of  the  Indian  tribes,  powerful  in  numbers  and 
abounding  in  wealth,  in  the  enjoyment  of  their  rich 
corn-fields,  and  their  forests  filled  with  game.  With 
this  he  contrasted  very  forcibly  their  present  wretched 
condition,  with  diminished  numbers,  and  with  the 
loss  of  their  hunting  grounds.  He  reproached  the 
whites  with  the  violation  of  their  treaty  obligations, 
and  declared  that  the  Indians  had  been  forbearing  in 
the  extreme  under  the  wrongs  which  had  been  in¬ 
flicted  upon  them. 

“  We  know,”  said  he,  “  perfectly  well,  our  weakness 
when  compared  with  the  English.  The  Indians  de¬ 
sire  only  justice.  The  war  was  not  sought  by  us,  but 
was  forced  upon  us.  It  was  commened  by  the  whites. 
We  should  have  merited  the  contempt  of  every  white 
man  could  we  have  tamely  submitted  to  the  murders 
which  have  been  inflicted  upon  our  unoffending  people 
at  the  hands  of  the  white  men.” 

The  power  was  with  Lord  Dunmore.  In  the  treaty 
of  peace  he  exacted  terms  which,  though  very  hard  for 
the  Indians,  were  perhaps  not  more  than  he  had  a 
right  to  require.  The  Indians  surrendered  four  of 
their  principal  warriors  as  hostages  for  the  faithful 
observance  of  the  treaty.  They  relinquished  alJ 
claims  whatevei  to  the  vast  hunting  grounds  whic.ii 


INDIAN  WARFARE. 


121 


their  bands  from  time  immemorial  had  ranged  south 
ol  the  Ohio  river.  This  was  an  immense  concession. 
Lord  Dunmore  returned  across  the  mountains  well 
satisfied  with  his  campaign,  though  his  soldiers  were 
excited  almost  to  mutiny  in  not  being  permitted  to 
wreak  their  vengeance  upon  the  unhappy  savages. 

And  here  let  it  be  remarked,  that  deeply  wronged 
as  these  Indians  unquestionably  were,  there  was  not 
a  little  excuse  for  the  exasperation  of  the  whites. 
Fiends  incarnate  could  not  have  invented  more 
terrible  tortures  than  they  often  inflicted  upon  their 
captives.  We  have  no  heart  to  describe  these  scenes. 
They  are  too  awful  to  be  contemplated.  In  view  of 
the  horrid  barbarity  thus  practised,  it  is  not  strange 
that  the  English  should  have  wished  to  shoot  down 
the  whole  race,  men,  women,  and  children,  as  they 
would  exterminate  wolves  or  bears. 

This  campaign  being  thus  successfully  terminated. 
Daniel  Boone  returned  to  his  humble  cabin  on  the 
Clinch  River.  Here  he  had  a  small  and  fertile  farm, 
which  his  energetic  family  had  successfully  cultivated 
during  the  summer,  and  he  spent  the  winter  months 
in  his  favorite  occupation  of  hunting  in  the  forests 
around.  His  thoughtful  mind,  during  these  long  and 
solitary  rambles,  was  undoubtedly  occupied  with  plans 
for  the  future.  Emigration  to  his  beautiful  Kentucky 

was  still  his  engrossing  thought. 

11 


122 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


It  m  not  wonderful  that  a  man  cf  such  fearless 
temperament,  and  a  natural  turn  of  mind  so  poetic 
and  imaginative,  should  have  been  charmed  beyond 
expression  by  a  realm  whose  attractions  he  had  so 
fully  experienced.  That  the  glowing  descriptions  of 
Boone  and  Finley  were  not  exaggerated,  is  manifest 
from  the  equally  rapturous  account  of  others  who 
now  began  to  explore  this  favored  land.  Imlay  writes 
of  that  region  : 

“  Everything  here  assumes  a  dignity  and  splendor 
I  have  never  seen  in  any  other  part  of  the  world.  You 
ascend  a  considerable  distance  from  the  shores  of  the 
Ohio,  and  when  you  would  suppose  you  had  arrived 
at  the  summit  of  a  mountain,  you  find  yourself  upon 
an  extensive  level.  Here  an  eternal  verdure  reigns, 
and  the  brilliant  sun  of  latitude  39  degrees,  piercing 
through  the  azure  heavens,  produces  in  this  prolific 
soil  an  early  maturity  which  is  truly  astonishing. 
Flowers  full  and  perfect,  as  if  they  had  been  cultivated 
by  the  hand  of  a  florist,  with  all  their  captivating 
odors,  and  with  ail  the  variegated  charms  which  color 
and  nature  can  produce,  here  in  the  lap  of  elegance 
and  beauty,  decorate  the  smiling  groves.  Soft  zephyrs 
gently  breathe  on  sweets,  and  the  inhaled  air  gives  a 
glow  of  health  and  vigor  that  seems  to  ravish  the 
intoxicated  senses.” 

The  Virginian  government  now  resolved  to  pour  a 


INDIAN  WARFARE. 


tide  of  emigration  into  these  as  yet  unexplored  realms, 
south  of  the  Ohio.  Four  hundred  acres  of  land  were 
offered  to  every  individual  who  would  build  a  cabin, 
clear  a  lot  of  land,  and  raise  a  crop  of  corn.  This 
was  called  a  settlement  right.  It  was  not  stated  how 
large  the  clearing  should  be,  or  how  extensive  the 
eorn-field.  Several  settlements  were  thus  begun  in 
Kentucky,  when  there  was  a  new  and  extraordinary 
Biovement  which  attracted  universal  attention. 

A  very  remarkable  man,  named  Richard  Hender¬ 
son,  appeared  in  North  Carolina.  Emerging  from  the 
humblest  walks  of  life,  and  unable  even  to  read  until 
he  had  obtained  maturity,  he  developed  powers  of 
conversational  eloquence  and  administrative  ability  of 
the  highest  order. 

The  Cherokee  Indians  claimed  the  whole  country 
bounded  by  the  Kentucky,  the  Ohio,  and  the  Cumber¬ 
land  rivers,  and  we  know  not  how  much  more  territory 
extending  indefinitely  to  the  South  and  West.  Colonel 
Henderson  formed  an  association  called  the  Transyl¬ 
vania  Company.  Making  a  secret  journey  to  the 
Cherokee  country,  he  met  twelve  hundred  chiefs  in 
council,  and  purchased  of  them  the  whole  territory, 
equal  to  some  European  kingdoms,  bounded  by  the 
above  mentioned  rivers.  For  this  realm  he  paid  the 
insignificant  sum  of  ten  wagon  loads  of  cheap  goods, 
with  a  few  fire-anus  and  some  spirituous  liquors. 


124 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


Mr.  Henderson,  to  whom  the  rest  of  the  company 
seemed  to  have  delegated  all  their  powers,  now 
assumed  the  position  of  proprietor,  governor,  and 
legislator  of  his  magnificent  domain,  which  he  called 
Transylvania.  It  seems  that  Boone  accompanied 
Colonel  Henderson  to  the  council  of  the  Cherokee 
chieftains  which  was  held  at  Wataga,  the  southern 
branch  of  the  Holston  River.  Boone  had  explored 
nearly  the  whole  of  this  region,  and  it  was  upon  his 
testimony  that  the  company  relied  in  endeavoring  to 
purchase  these  rich  and  fertile  lands.  Indeed,  as  we 
have  before  intimated,  it  has  been  said  that  Boone  in 
his  wonderful  and  perilous  explorations  was  the 
agent  of  this  secret  company. 

No  treaties  with  the  Indians  were  sure  of  genet  al 
acquiescence.  There  were  always  discontented  chief¬ 
tains  ;  there  were  almost  always  conflicting  claims  of 
hostile  tribes  ;  there  were  always  wandering  tribes  of 

hunters  and  of  warriors,  who,  exasperated  by  the 
treatment  which  they  had  received  from  vagabond 
white  men,  were  ever  ready  to  wreak  their  vengeance 
upon  any  band  of  emigrants  they  might  encounter. 

Colonel  Henderson’s  treaty  was  made  in  the 
month  of  March,  1775.  With  characteristic  vigor,  he 
immediately  made  preparations  for  the  settlement  of 
the  kingdom  of  which  he  was  the  proud  monarch. 
The  first  thing  to  be  done  was  to  mark  out  a  feasible 
path  through  which  emigrants  might  pass,  without 


INDIAN  WARFARE, 


125 


losing  their  way,  over  the  mountains  and  through  tha 
wilderness,  to  the  heart  of  this  new  Eden.  Of  all  the 
men  in  the  world,  Daniel  Boone  was  the  one  to  map 
out  this  route  of  five  hundred  miles.  He  took  with 
him  a  company  of  road-makers,  and  in  a  few  months 
opened  a  path  which  could  be  traversed  by  pack- 
horses,  and  even  by  wagons  to  a  place  called  Boones- 
ville  on  the  Kentucky  river,  within  about  thirty  miles 
of  the  present  site  of  Lexington. 

The  Indian  hunters  and  warriors,  notwithstanding 
the  treaties  into  which  the  chieftains  of  the  North  and 
the  South  had  entered,  watched  the  construction  of  this 
road  with  great  solicitude.  They  knew  full  well  that 
it  would  ere  long  secure  their  expulsion  from  their 
ancient  hunting  grounds.  Though  no  general  warfare 
was  organized  by  the  tribes,  it  was  necessary  to  be 
constantly  on  the  watch  against  lawless  bands,  who 
were  determined  to  harass  the  pioneers  in  every 
possible  way.  In  the  following  letter  Boone  com¬ 
municated  to  Colonel  Henderson  the  hostility  which 
they  had,  perhaps  unexpectedly,  encountered.  It  was 
dated  the  first  of  April,  and  was  sent  back  by  a 
courier  through  the  woods  : 

“  Dear  Colonel,-— 

a  After  my  compliments  to  you,  I  shall  acquaint 
you  with  my  misfortunes.  On  March  the  Twenty 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


fifth,  a  party  of  Indians  fired  on  my  company  about 
half  an  hour  before  day,  and  killed  Mr.  Twitty  and 
lais  negro,  and  wounded  Mr.  Walker  very  deeply  ;  but 
I  hope  he  will  recover.  On  March  the  Twenty-eighth, 
as  we  were  hunting  for  provisions,  we  found  Samuel 
Tale’s  sot),  who  gave  us  an  account  that  the  Indians 
fred  on  their  camp  on  the  twenty-seventh  day.  My 
brother  and  1  went  down  and  found  two  men  killed 
and  scalped,  Thomas  McDowell  and  Jeremiah  Mc- 
Peters.  I  have  sent  a  man  down  to  all  the  lower 
companies,  in  order  to  gather  them  all  to  the  mouth 
of  the  Otter  Creek.  My  advice  to  you,  sir,  is  to  come 
or  send  as  soon  as  possible.  Your  company  is  desired 
greatly,  for  the  people  are  very  uneasy,  but  are 
willing  to  stay  and  venture  their  lives  with  you.  And 
oow  is  the  time  to  frustrate  their  (the  Indians)  inten¬ 
tions,  and  keep  the  country  while  we  are  in  it.  If  we 
give  way  to  them  now,  it  will  ever  be  the  case.  This 
day  we  start  from  the  battle  ground  to  the  mouth  of 
Otter  Creek,  where  we  shall  immediately  erect  a  fort, 
which  will  be  done  before  you  can  come  or  send 
Then  we  can  send  ten  men  to  meet  you,  if  you  send 
for  them. 

**  l  am,  Sir,  your  most  obedient  servant, 

“  Daniel  Boone.” 

Boone  immediately  commenced  upon  the  left  bank 
of  the  Kentucky  liver,  which  here  ran  in  a  westerly 


INDIAN  WARFARE. 


I27 


direction,  the  erection  of  a  fort.  Their  position  was 
full  of  peril,  for  the  road-makers  were  but  few  in 
number,  and  Indian  warriors  to  the  number  of  many 
hundreds  might  at  any  time  encircle  them.  Many  o i 
these  Indians  had  also  obtained  muskets  from  the 
French  in  Canada,  and  had  become  practiced  marks¬ 
men.  Nearly  three  months  were  busily  occupied 
in  the  construction  of  this  important  fort.  Fortunately 
we  have  a  minute  description  of  its  structure,  and  a 
sketch  of  its  appearance,  either  from  the  pencil  of 
Colonel  Henderson,  or  of  some  one  in  his  employ. 

The  fort  or  fortress  consisted  of  a  series  of  strong 
log  huts,  enclosing  a  large  interior  or  square.  The 
parallelogram  was  about  two  hundred  and  sixty  feet 
in  length  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  in  breadth.  These 
cabins,  built  of  logs,  were  bullet-proof.  The  intervals 
between  them  were  filled  with  stout  pieces  of  timber, 
about  twelve  feet  high,  planted  firmly  in  the  ground, 
in  close  contact  with  each  other,  and  sharpened  at  the 
top.  The  fort  was  built  close  to  the  river,  with  ona 
of  its  angles  almost  overhanging  the  water,  so  that  an 
abundant  supply  could  be  obtained  without  peril 
Each  of  the  comer  houses  projected  a  little,  so  that 
from  the  port-holes  any  Indian  could  be  shot  who 
should  approach  the  walls  with  ladder  or  hatchet 
This  really  artistic  structure  was  not  completed  until 
the  fourteenth  day  01  June.  The  Indians  from  a  dis* 


12$ 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


tance  watched  its  progress  with  dismay.  They  made 
one  attack,  but  were  easily  repelled,  though  they 
succeeded  in  shooting  one  of  the  emigrants. 

Daniel  Boone  contemplated  the  fortress  on  its  com¬ 
pletion  with  much  satisfaction.  He  was  fully  assured 
that  behind  its  walls  and  palisades  bold  hearts,  with 
an  ample  supply  of  ammunition,  could  repel  any  as¬ 
saults  which  the  Indians  were  capable  of  making.  He 
now  resolved  immediately  to  return  to  Clinch  river, 
and  bring  his  family  out  to  share  with  him  his  new 
and  attractive  home. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Sufferings  of  the  Pioneers. 


Emigration  to  Boonesborough. — New  Perils.— Transylvania  Com¬ 
pany. — Beneficence  of  its  Laws. — Interesting  Incident. — Infa¬ 
mous  conduct  of  Great  Britain _ Attack  on  the  Fort. — Rein¬ 

forcements. — Simon  Kenton  and  his  Sufferings. — Mrs.  Harvey. 


The  fortress  at  Boonesborough  consisted  of  ten 
strong  log  huts  arranged  in  a  quadrangular  form,  en¬ 
closing  an  area  of  about  one-third  of  an  acre.  The 
intervals,  as  before  stated,  between  the  huts,  were 
filled  with  strong  palisades  of  timber,  which,  like  the 
huts  themselves,  were  bullet-proof.  The  outer  sides 
of  the  cabins,  together  with  the  palisades,  formed  the 
sides  of  the  fort  exposed  to  the  foe.  Each  of  these 
cabins  was  about  twenty  feet  in  length  and  twelve  or 
fifteen  in  breadth.  There  were  two  entrance  gates 
opposite  each  other,  made  of  thick  slabs  of  timber, 
and  hung  on  wooden  hinges.  The  forest,  which  wau 
quite  dense,  had  been  cut  away  to  such  a  distance  an 
to  expose  an  assailing  party  to  the  bullets  of  the  gar¬ 
rison.  As  at  that  time  the  Indians  were  armed  mainli/ 
with  bows  and  arrows,  a  few  men  fully  supplied  with 

ammunition  within  the  fort  could  bid  defiance  t* 

<m) 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


l$Q 

almost  any  number  of  savages.  And  subsequently; 
as  the  Indians  obtained  fire-arms,  they  could  not  hope 
to  capture  the  fort  without  a  long  siege,  or  by  assail  • 
ing  it  with  a  vastly  overwhelming  superiority  of 
numbers.  The  accompanying  illustration  will  give 
the  reader  a  very  correct  idea  of  this  renowned  for¬ 
tress  of  logs,  which  was  regarded  as  the  Gibraltar  of 
Indian  warfare. 

Having  finished  this  fort  Daniel  Boone,  leaving  a 
sufficient  garrison  for  its  security,  set  out  for  his  home 
on  the  Clinch  river  to  bring  his  wife  and  family  to  the 
beautiful  land  he  so  long  had  coveted  for  their  resi¬ 
dence.  It  seems  that  his  wife  and  daughters  were 
eager  to  follow  their  father  to  the  banks  of  the  Ken¬ 
tucky,  whose  charms  he  had  so  glowingly  described 
to  them.  Several  other  families  were  also  induced  to 
join  the  party  of  emigration.  They  could  dwell  to¬ 
gether  in  a  very  social  community  and  in  perfect 
safety  in  the  spacious  cabins  within  the  fortress.  The 
river  would  furnish  them  with  an  unfailing  supply  of 
water.  The  hunters,  with  their  rifles,  could  supply 
them  with  game,  and  with  those  rifles  could  protect 
themselves  while  laboring  in  the  fields,  which  with 
the  axe  they  had  laid  open  to  the  sun  around  the  fort. 
The  hunters  and  the  farmers  at  night  returning  within 
the  enclosure,  felt  perfectly  safe  from  all  assaults. 

Daniel  Boone  commenced  his  journey  with  his 


SUFFERINGS  OF  THE  PIONEERS. 


131 

wife  and  children,  and  others  who  joined  them,  back  to 
Boonesborough  in  high  spirits.  It  was  a  long  journey 
of  several  hundred  miles,  and  to  many  persons  it  would 
seem  a  journey  fraught  with  great  peril,  for  they  were  in 
danger  almost  every  mile  of  the  way,  of  encountering 
hostile  Indians.  But  Boone,  accustomed  to  traversing 
the  wilderness,  and  accompanied  by  well  armed  men, 
felt  no  more  apprehensions  of  danger  than  the  father 
of  a  family  would  at  the  present  day  in  traveling  by 
cars  from  Massachusetts  to  Pennsylvania. 

It  was  beautiful  autumnal  weather  when  the  party  of 
pioneers  commenced  its  adventurous  tour  through  the 
wilderness,  to  find  a  new  home  five  hundred  miles  be¬ 
yond  even  the  remotest  frontiers  of  civilization.  There 
were  three  families  besides  that  of  Boone,  and 
numbered  in  all  twenty-six  men,  four  women,  and 
four  or  five  boys  and  girls  of  various  ages.  Daniel 
Boone  was  the  happy  leader  of  this  heroic  little  band. 

In  due  time  they  all  arrived  safely  at  Boonesborough 
“  without  having  encountered,”  as  Boone  writes,  “  any 
other  difficulties  than  such  as  are  common  to  this 
passage.”  As  they  approached  the  fort,  Boone  and 
his  family,  for  some  unexplained  reason,  pressed 
forward,  and  entered  the  fortress  a  few  days  in  advance 
of  the  rest  of  the  party.  Perhaps  Boone  himself  had 
a  little  pride  to  have  it  said,  that  Mrs.  Boone  and  he* 
daughter  were  the  first  of  her  color  and  sex  that 


1J2 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


ever  stood  upon  the  banks  of  the  wild  and  beautiful 

Kentucky. 

A  few  days  after  their  arrival,  the  emigrants  had  a 
very  solemn  admonition  of  the  peril  which  surrounded 
them,  and  of  the  necessity  of  constant  vigilance  to 
guard  against  a  treacherous  and  sleepless  foe.  One  of 
their  number  who  had  sauntered  but  a  short  distance 
from  the  fort,  lured  by  the  combined  beauty  of  the 
field,  the  forest  and  the  river,  was  shot  by  a  prowling 
Indian,  who,  raising  the  war-whoop  of  exultation  and 
defiance,  immediately  disappeared  in  the  depths  of 
the  wilderness. 

Colonel  Henderson  and  his  partners,  anxious  to 
promote  the  settlement  of  the  country,  by  organising 
parties  of  emigration,  were  busy  in  making  known 
through  the  settlements  the  absolute  security  of  the 
fort  at  Boonesborough,  and  the  wonderful  attractions 
of  the  region,  in  soil,  climate,  and  abounding  game. 
Henderson  himself  soon  started  with  a  large  party, 
forty  of  whom  were  well  armed.  A  number  of  pack- 
horses  conveyed  the  luggage  of  the  emigrants. 
Following  the  very  imperfect  road  that  Boone  with 
much  skill  had  engineered,  which  was  quite  tolerable 
for  pack-horses  in  single  file,  they  reached  Boones¬ 
borough  early  in  the  following  spring. 

The  Transylvania  Company  was  in  the  full  flush  of 
successful  experiment.  Small  parties  of  emigrants 


SUFFERINGS  OF  THE  PIONEERS.  1 33 

were  constantly  arriving.  Boonesborough  was  the 
capital  of  the  colony.  Various  small  settlements 
were  settled  in  its  vicinity.  Colonel  Hendersqn 
opened  a  land  office  there,  and  over  half  a  million  of 
acres  were  entered,  by  settlers  or  speculators.  These 
men  did  not  purchase  the  lands  outright,  but  bound 
themselves  to  pay  a  small  but  perpetual  rent.  The 
titles,  which  they  supposed  to  be  perfectly  good,  were 
given  in  the  name  of  the  u  proprietors  of  the  Colony 
of  Transylvania,  in  America.” 

Soon  four  settlements  were  organised  called 
Boonesborough,  Harrodsburg,  Boiling  Spring,  and 
St.  Asaph.  Colonel  Henderson,  on  the  twenty-third 
of  May,  1775,  as  president  or  rather  sovereign  of  this 
extraordinary  realm,  summoned  a  legislature  consist¬ 
ing  of  delegates  from  this  handful  of  pioneers,  to  meet 
at  his  capital,  Boonesborough.  Henderson  presided. 
Daniel  and  his  brother  Squire  were  delegates  from 
Boonesborough.  A  clergyman,  the  Reverend  John 
Ley  the,  opened  the  session  with  prayer.  Colonel 
Henderson  made  a  remarkable  and  admirable  speech 
This  extraordinary  legislature  represented  only  a 
constituency  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  souls.  But  the 
Colonel  presented  to  them  very  clearly  the  true  re¬ 
publican  principle  of  government.  He  declared  that 
the  only  legitimate  source  of  political  power  is  to  be  * 

found  in  the  will  of  the  people,  and  added  : 

.13 


J34 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


44  If  any  doubts  remain  among  you  with  respect  to 
the  force  and  efficiency  of  whatever  laws  you  now  os' 
hereafter  make,  be  pleased  to  consider  that  all  power 
is  originally  in  the  people.  Make  it  their  interest, 
therefore,  by  impartial  and  beneficent  laws,  and  yoa 
m2 y  be  sure  of  their  inclination  to  see  them  enforced.” 

Rumors  of  these  extraordinary  proceedings  reached 
the  ears  of  Lord  Dunmore.  He  considered  the  whole 
region  of  Kentucky  as  included  in  the  original  grant 
of  Virginia,  and  that  the  Government  of  Virginia  alone 
had  the  right  to  extinguish  the  Indian  title  to  any  of 
those  lands.  He  therefore  issued  a  proclamation,  de¬ 
nouncing  in  the  severest  terms  the  “  unlawful  pro¬ 
ceedings  of  one  Richard  Henderson  and  other  disor¬ 
derly  persons,  his  associates.”  The  legislature 
continued  in  session  but  three  days,  and  honored  itself 
greatly  by  its  energetic  action,  and  by  the  character  of 
the  laws  which  it  inaugurated.  One  bill  was  intro¬ 
duced  for  preserving  game ;  another  for  improving 
the  breed  of  their  horses ;  and  it  is  worthy  of  especial 
record  that  a  law  was  passed  prohibiting  profane 
swearing  and  Sabbath  breaking. 

The  moral  sense  of  these  bold  pioneers  was  shocked 
at  the  desecration  of  the  Creator’s  name  among  thei? 
sublime  solitudes. 

The  controversy  between  the  Transylvania  Com¬ 
pany  and  the  Government  of  Virginia  was  short  but 


SUFFERINGS  DF  THE  PIONEERS.  1 35 

very  sharp.  Virginia  could  then  very  easily  send  an 
army  of  several  thousand  men  to  exterminate  the 
Kentucky  colony.  A  compromise  was  the  result 
The  title  of  Henderson  was  declared  “  null  and  void.’* 
But  he  received  in  compensation  a  grant  of  land  on 
the  Ohio,  about  twelve  miles  square,  below  the  mouth 
of  Green  River.  Virginia  assumed  that  the  Indian 
title  was  entirely  extinguished,  and  the  region  called 
Transylvania  now  belonged  without  encumbrance  to 
the  Old  Dominion. 

Still  the  tide  of  emigration  continued  to  flow  into 
this  beautiful  region.  Among  others  came  the  family 
of  Colonel  Calloway,  consisting  of  his  wife  and  two 
daughters.  For  a  long  time  no  Indians  had  been  seen 
in  the  vicinity  of  Boonesborough.  No  one  seemed  to 
apprehend  the  least  danger  from  them,  and  the  people 
in  the  fort  wandered  about  as  freely  as  if  no  foe  had 
ever  excited  their  fears.  An  accident  occurred  which 
sent  a  tremor  of  dismay  through  the  whole  colony,  and 
which  we  will  describe  as  related  to  the  intelligent 
historian,  Peck,  from  the  lips  of  one  of  the  parties, 
who  experienced  all  the  terrors  of  the  scene  : 

“On  the  fourteenth  of  July,  1776,  Betsey  Calloway, 
her  sister  Frances,  and  Jemima  Boone,  a  daughter  of 
Daniel  Boone,  the  two  last  about  fourteen  years  of 
age,  carelessly  crossed  the  river  opposite  Boones¬ 
borough  in  a  canoe,  at  a  late  hour  in  the  afternoon 


13$ 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


The  trees  and  shrubs  on  the  opposite  bank  were  thick 
and  came  down  to  the  water’s  edge.  The  girls,  uncon¬ 
scious  of  danger,  were  playing  and  splashing  the 
water  with  their  paddles,  until  the  canoe  floating  with 
the  current,  drifted  near  the  shore.  Five  stout  Indiana 
lay  there  concealed,  one  of  whom,  noiseless  and 
stealthy  as  the  serpent,  crawled  down  the  bank  until 
he  reached  the  rope  that  hung  from  the  bow,  turned 
its  course  up  the  stream,  and  in  a  direction  to  be 
hidden  from  the  view  of  the  fort.  The  loud  shrieks 
of  the  captured  girls  were  heard,  but  too  late  for  their 
rescue. 

“  The  canoe,  their  only  means  of  crossing,  was  on 
the  opposite  shore,  and  none  dared  to  risk  the  chance  ol 
swimming  the  river,  under  the  impression  that  a  large 
body  of  savages  was  concealed  in  the  woods.  Boone 
and  Calloway  were  both  absent,  and  night  came  on 
before  arrangements  could  be  made  for  their  pursuit. 
Next  morning  by  daylight  we  were  on  the  track,  and 
found  they  had  prevented  our  following  them  by 
walking  some  distance  apart  through  the  thickest 
canes  they  could  find.  We  observed  their  course,  and 
on  which  side  they  had  left  their  sign  and  traveled 
upwards  of  thirty  miles.  We  then  imagined  they 
would  be  less  cautious  in  traveling,  and  made  a  turn 
in  order  to  cross  their  trace,  and  had  gone  but  a  few 
miles  when  we  found  their  tracks  in  a  buffalo  path. 


SUFFERINGS  OF  THE  PIONEERS.  I 

We  pursued  and  overtook  them  on  going  about  ten 
miles,  as  they  were  kindling  a  fire  to  cook. 

“  Our  study  had  been  more  to  get  the  prisoners 
without  giving  the  Indians  time  to  murder  them,  after 
they  discovered  us,  than  to  kill  them.  We  discovered 
each  other  nearly  at  the  same  time.  Four  of  us  fired, 
and  all  of  us  rushed  on  them,  which  prevented  them 
from  carrying  away  anything,  except  one  shot-gun 
without  ammunition.  Mr.  Boone  and  myself  had  a 
pretty  fair  shoot,  just  as  they  began  to  move  off.  I 
am  well  convinced  I  shot  one  through,  and  the  one  he 
shot  dropped  his  gun.  Mine  had  none.  The  place 
was  very  thick  with  canes,  and  being  so  much  elated 
on  recovering  the  three  broken-hearted  girls,  prevent¬ 
ed  our  making  further  search.  We  sent  them  off  with¬ 
out  their  mocassins,  and  not  one  of  them  with  so  much 
as  a  knife  or  a  tomahawk.” 

The  Indians  seemed  to  awake  increasingly  to  the 
consciousness  that  the  empire  of  the  white  man  in 
their  country  could  only  exist  upon  the  ruins  of  their 
own.  They  divided  themselves  into  several  parties, 
making  incessant  attacks  upon  the  forts,  and  prowling 
around  to  shoot  every  white  man  who  could  be  found 
within  reach  of  their  bullets.  They  avoided  all  open 
warfare,  and  fought  only  when  they  could  spring  from 
an  ambush,  or  when  protected  by  a  stump,  a  rock,  oi 
a  tree.  An  Indian  would  conceal  himself  in  the  night 


138 


DANIEL  BOONE, 


behind  a  stump,  shoot  the  first  one  adio  emerged  from 
the  fort  in  the  morning,  and  then  with  a  yell  disappear 
In  the  recesses  of  the  forest.  The  cattle  could  scarcely 
appear  for  an  hour  to  graze  beyond  the  protection  of 
the  fort,  without  danger  of  being  struck  down  by  the 
bullet  of  an  unseen  foe. 

The  war  of  the  American  Revolution  was  just 
commencing.  Dreadfully  it  added  to  the  perils  of 
these  distant  emigrants.  The  British  Government, 
with  infamy  which  can  never  be  effaced  from  her 
records,  called  in  to  her  aid  the  tomahawk  and  the 
scalping  knife  of  the  savage.  The  Indian  alone  in 
his  wild  and  merciless  barbarity,  was  terrible  enough. 
But  when  he  appeared  as  the  ally  of  a  powerful 
nation,  guided  in  his  operations  by  the  wisdom  of  her 
officers,  and  well  provided  with  guns,  powder,  and 
bullets  from  inexhaustible  resources,  the  settler  had 
indeed  reason  to  tremble.  The  winter  of  1776  and 
1777  was  gloomy  beyond  expression.  The  Indians 
were  hourly  becoming  more  bold.  Their  predatory 
bands  were  wandering  in  all  directions,  and  almost 
every  day  came  fraught  with  tidings  of  outrage  c? 
massacre. 

The  whole  military  force  of  the  colony  was  but 
about  one  hundred  men.  Three  hundred  of  the 
pioneers,  dismayed  by  the  cloud  of  menace,  every 
kous  growing  blacker,  had  returned  across  the  moun* 


SUFFERINGS  OF  THE  PIONEERS.  I 

cams.  There  were  but  twenty-two  armed  men  left 
in  the  fort  at  Boonesborough.  The  dismal  winter 
passed  slowly  away,  and  the  spring  opened  replete 
with  nature’s  bloom  and  beauty,  but  darkened  by  the 
depravity  of  man.  On  the  fifteenth  of  April,  a  band 
of  a  hundred  howling  Indians  appeared  in  the  forest 
before  Boonesborough.  With  far  more  than  their 
ordinary  audacity,  they  rushed  from  their  covert  upon 
the  fort.  Had  they  been  acquainted  with  the  use  ol 
scaling  ladders,  by  attacking  at  different  points,  they 
might  easily,  by  their  superior  numbers,  have  carried 
the  place  by  storm. 

But  fortunately  the  savages  had  but  little  military 
science,  and  when  once  repulsed,  would  usually  re¬ 
treat  in  dismay.  The  garrison,  behind  their  impene¬ 
trable  logs,  took  deliberate  aim,  and  every  bullet 
killed  or  wounded  some  Indian  warrior.  The  sav¬ 
ages  fought  with  great  bravery,  and  succeeded  in 
killing  one  man  in  the  garrison.  Dismayed  by  the 
slaughter  which  they  were  encountering,  they  fled, 
taking  their  dead  and  wounded  with  them.  But  so 
fully  were  they  conscious,  that  would  they  retain 
their  own  supremacy  in  the  wilderness,  they  must  ex¬ 
terminate  the  w'hite  man,  that  their  retreat  was  only 
in  preparation  for  a  return  with  accumulated  numbers. 

An  intelligent  historian  writes  : 

*  Daniel  Boone  appears  before  us  in  these  exciting 


140 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


times  the  central  figure  towering  like  a  colossus  amid 
that  hardy  band  of  pioneers  who  opposed  their 
breasts  to  the  shock  of  the  struggle  which  gave  a 
terrible  significance  and  a  crimson  hue  to  the  history 
of  the  old  dark  and  bloody  ground.” 

The  Indians  were  scattered  everywhere  in  desper¬ 
ate  bands.  Forty  men  were  sent  from  North  Caro¬ 
lina  and  a  hundred  from  Virginia,  under  Colonel 
Bowman,  to  strengthen  the  feeble  settlements.  The 
latter  party  arrived  on  the  twentieth  of  August,  1776. 
There  were  at  that  time  skirmishes  with  the  Indians 
almost  every  day.  The  pioneers  within  their  log- 
houses,  or  behind  their  palissades,  generally  repelled 
these  assaults  with  but  little  loss  to  themselves  and 
not  often  inflicting  severe  injury  to  the  wary  savages. 
In  the  midst  of  these  constant  conflicts  and  dangers, 
the  winter  months  passed  drearily  away.  Boones- 
borough  was  constantly  menaced  and  frequently 
attacked.  In  a  diary  kept  within  the  fort  we  find  : 

44 May  23. —  A  large  party  of  Indians  attacked 
Boonesborough  fort.  Kept  a  warm  fire  till  eleven 
o’clock  at  night  Began  it  next  morning,  and  kept  a 
warm  fire  till  midnight.  Attempting  several  times  to 
burn  the  fort.  Three  of  our  men  were  wounded,  but 
not  mortally. 

u  May  26.  —  A  party  went  out  to  hunt  Indians. 
One  wounded  Squire  Boone,  and  escaped,” 


SUFFERINGS  OF  THE  PIONEERS. 


141 


Very  cruel  warfare  was  now  being  waged  by  the 
majestic  power  of  Great  Britain  to  bring  the  revolted 
colonies  back  to  subjection  to  their  laws.  As  we 
have  mentioned  they  called  into  requisition  on  their 
side  the  merciless  energies  of  the  savage,  openly  de¬ 
claring  to  the  world  that  they  were  justified  in  making 
use  of  whatever  weapons  God  and  nature  might  place 
in  their  hands.  From  the  strong  British  garrisons  at 
Detroit,  Vincennes  and  Kaskaskia,  the  Indians  were 
abundantly  supplied  with  rifles,  powder  and  bullets, 
and  were  offered  liberal  rewards  for  such  prisoners, 
and  even  scalps,  as  they  might  bring  in. 

The  danger  which  threatened  these  settlements  in 
Kentucky  was  now  such  as  might  cause  the  stoutest 
heart  to  quail.  The  savage  had  been  adopted  as  an 
ally  by  the  most  wealthy  and  powerful  nation  upon 
the  globe.  His  marauding  bands  were  often  guided 
by  the  intelligence  of  British  officers.  Boone  organ¬ 
ized  what  might  be  called  a  corps  of  explorers  to  go 
out  two  and  two,  penetrating  the  wilderness  with  ex¬ 
treme  caution,  in  all  directions,  to  detect  any  indica¬ 
tion  of  the  approach  of  the  Indians.  One  of  these 
explorers,  Simon  Kenton,  acting  under  the  sagacious 
counsel  of  Colonel  Boone,  had  obtained  great  and 
deserved  celebrity  as  among  the  most  heroic  of  the 
remarkable  men  who  laid  the  foundation  of  the  State 
of  Kentucky.  It  would  be  difficult  to  find  in  any 


142 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


pages  of  romance  incidents  of  more  wonderful  adven¬ 
ture,  or  of  more  dreadful  suffering,  or  stories  of  more 
miraculous  escape,  than  were  experienced  by  this 
man.  Several  times  he  was  taken  captive  by  th« 
Indians,  and  though  treated  with  great  inhumanity, 
succeeded  in  making  his  escape.  The  following  inci* 
dent  in  his  life,  occurring  about  this  time,  gives  one  a 
very  vivid  picture  of  the  nature  of  this  warfare  with 
the  Indians  : 

“Colonel  Bowman  sent  Simon  Kenton  with  two 
other  men,  Montgomery  and  Clark,  on  an  exploring 
tour.  Approaching  an  Indian  town  very  cautiously 
in  the  night,  on  the  north  side  of  the  Ohio  river,  they 
found  a  number  of  Indian  horses  in  an  enclosure.  A 
horse  in  the  wilderness  was  one  of  the  most  valuable 
of  prizes.  They  accordingly  each  mounted  an  animal, 
and  not  daring  to  leave  any  behind,  which  would  aid 
the  Indians  to  pursue  them,  by  hastily  constructed 
halters  they  led  the  rest.  The  noise  which  the  horses 
made  awoke  the  Indians,  and  the  whole  village  was 
at  once  in  a  state  of  uproar.  The  mounted  adven¬ 
turers  dashed  through  the  woods  and  were  soon  be¬ 
yond  the  reach  of  the  shouts  and  the  yells  which  they 
left  behind  them.  They  knew,  however,  full  well  that 
the  swift-footed  Indian  warriors  would  be  immediately 
on  their  trail.  Without  a  moment’s  rest  they  rode  all 
night,  the  next  day  and  the  next  night,  and  on  the 


SUFFERINGS  OF  THE  PIONEERS.  143 

morning  of  tin  second  day  reached  the  banks  of  the 
Ohio  river.  The  flood  of  that  majestic  stream  flowed 
broad  and  deep  before  them,  and  its  surface  was 
lashed  into  waves  by  a  very  boisterous  wind.  The 
horses  could  not  swim  across  in  such  a  gale,  but  theii 
desire  to  retain  the  invaluable  animals  was  so  great 
that  they  resolved  to  wait  upon  the  banks  until  sun. 
set,  when  they  expected  the  wind  to  abate.  Having 
been  so  well  mounted  and  having  such  a  start  of  the 
Indians,  they  did  not  suppose  it  possible  that  their 
pursuers  could  overtake  them  before  that  time. 

Night  came,  but  with  it  an  increase  of  the  fury  ot 
the  gale,  and  the  stream  became  utterly  impassable. 
Early  in  the  morning  Kenton,  who  was  separated 
from  his  companions,  observed  three  Indians  and  a 
white  man,  well  mounted,  rapidly  approaching.  F  ais- 
ing  his  rifle,  he  took  steady  aim  at  the  breast  oi  the 
foremost  Indian,  and  pulled  the  trigger.  The  powder 
flashed  in  the  pan.  Kenton  took  to  his  heels,  but 
was  soon  overtaken  and  captured.  The  Indians 
seemed  greatly  exasperated  at  the  loss  of  their  horses. 
One  seized  him  by  the  hair  and  shook  his  head  “  till 
his  teeth  rattled.”  The  others  scourged  him  severely 
with  their  ramrods  over  the  head  and  face,  exclaiming 
at  every  blow,  “  Steal  Indian  hoss,  hey !  ” 

Just  then  Kenton  saw  Montgomery  coming  boldly 
to  his  assistance.  Instantly  two  Indian  rifles  were 


i  44 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


discharged,  and  Montgomery  fell  dead  His  bloody 
scalp  was  waved  in  the  face  of  Kenton,  with  menaces 
of  a  similar  fate.  Clark  had  sought  safety  in  flight 
Kenton  was  thrown  upon  the  ground  upon  his  back. 
His  neck  was  fastened  by  a  halter  to  a  sapling  ;  his 
arms,  extented  to  their  full  length,  were  pinioned  to 
the  earth  by  stakes  ;  his  feet  were  fastened  in  a  similar 
manner.  A  stout  stick  was  passed  across  his  breast, 
and  so  attached  to  the  earth  that  he  could  not  move 
his  body.  All  this  was  done  in  the  most  violent  and 
cruel  manner,  accompanied  by  frequent  cuffs,  and 
blows,  as  the  maddened  Indians  called  him  in  the 
broken  English  which  they  had  acquired,  “  a  tief,  a 
boss  steal,  a  rascal,”  which  expressions  the  Indiana 
had  learned  to  intersperse  with  English  oaths. 

In  this  condition  of  suffering  Kenton  remained 
through  the  day  and  through  the  night  The  next 
morning  the  savages  having  collected  their  scattered 
horses,  put  Kenton  upon  a  young  colt,  tied  his  hands 
behind  him  and  his  feet  beneath  the  horse’s  belly,  and 
set  out  on  their  return.  The  country  was  rough  and 
Kenton  could  not  at  all  protect  himself  from  the 
bramble*  through  which  they  passed.  Thus  they  rode 
all  day.  When  night  came,  their  prisoner  was  bound 
to  the  earth  as  before.  The  next  day  they  reached 
the  Indian  village,  which  was  called  Chilicothe,  on  the 
Miami  river,  forty  or  fifty  miles  west  of  the  present 


SUFFERINGS  OF  THE  PIONEERS. 


145 


dty  of  Chilicothe,  Ohio.  A  courier  was  sent  forward, 
to  inform  the  village  of  their  arrival.  Every  man, 
woman  and  child  came  running  out,  to  view  the 
prisoner.  One  of  their  chiefs.  Blackfish,  approached 
Kenton  with  a  strong  hickory  switch  in  his  hand,  and 
addressing  him  said, 

**  You  have  been  stealing  our  horses,  have  you  ?” 

“  Yes,”  was  the  defiant  reply. 

**  Did  Colonel  Boone,”  inquired  the  chief,  w  tell  you 
to  steal  our  horses  ?  ” 

“  No,”  said  Kenton,  “  I  did  it  of  my  own  accord.’* 

Blackfish  then  with  brawny  arms  so  mercilessly 
applied  the  scourge  to  the  bare  head  and  shoulders  of 
his  prisoner,  as  to  cause  the  blood  to  flow  freely,  and 
to  occasion  the  acutest  pain. 

In  the  mean  time  the  whole  crowd  of  men,  women 
and  children  danced  and  hooted  and  clapped  their 
hands,  assailing  him  with  the  choicest  epithets  of 
Indian  vituperation.  With  loud  cries  they  demanded 
that  he  should  be  tied  to  the  stake,  that  they  might 
all  enjoy  the  pleasure  of  tormenting  him.  A  stake 
was  immediately  planted  in  the  ground,  and  he  was 
firmly  fastened  to  it.  His  entire  clothing  was  tom 
from  him,  mainly  by  the  Indian  women.  The  whole 
party  then  danced  abound  him  until  midnight,  yelling 
in  the  most  frantic  manner,  smiting  him  with  theif 
’iiands  and  lacerating  his  flesh  with  their  switches. 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


r46 

At  midnight  they  released  him  from  the  stake, 
allowed  him  some  little  repose,  in  preparation  for  their 
principal  amusement  in  the  morning,  of  having  thdir 
prisoner  run  the  gauntlet.  Three  hundred  Indians  of 
all  ages  and  both  sexes  were  assembled  for  the  savage 
festival.  The  Indians  were  ranged  in  two  parallel 
lines,  about  six  feet  apart,  all  armed  with  sticks,  hickory 
rods,  whips,  and  other  means  of  inflicting  torture. 
Between  these  lines,  for  more  than  half  a  mile  to  the 
village,  the  wretched  prisoner  was  doomed  to  run  for 
his  life,  exposed  to  such  injury  as  his  tormentors 
could  inflict  as  he  passed.  If  he  succeeded  in  reaching 
the  council-house  alive,  it  would  prove  an  asylum  to 
him  for  the  present. 

“  At  a  given  signal,  Kenton  started  in  the  perilous 
race  ;  exerting  his  utmost  strength  and  activity,  he 
passed  swiftly  along  the  line,  receiving  numerous 
blows,  stripes,  buffets,  and  wounds,  until  heapproached 
the  town,  near  which  he  saw  an  Indian  leisurely 
awaiting  his  advance,  with  a  drawn  knife  in  his  hand, 
intent  upon  his  death. 

“  To  avoid  him,  he  instantly  broke  through  thelmev 
and  made  his  rapid  way  towards  the  council-house, 
pursued  by  the  promiscuous  crowd,  whooping  and 
yelling  like  infernal  furies  at  his  heels.  Entering  the 
town  in  advance  of  his  pursuers,  just  as  he  supposed 
the  council-house  within  his  reach,  an  Indian  was  per- 


SUFFERINGS  OF  THE  PIONEERS.  I47 

ceived  leisurely  approaching  him  with  his  blanket 
wrapped  around  him;  but  suddenly  he  threw  off  the 
blanket  and  sprung  upon  Kenton  as  he  advanced. 
Exhausted  with  fatigue  and  wounds,  he  was  thrown 
to  the  ground,  and  in  a  moment  he  was  beset  with 
crowds,  eager  to  inflict  upon  him  the  kick  or  blow 
which  had  been  avoided  by  breaking  through  the 
line.  Here  beaten,  kicked  and  scourged,  until  he  was 
nearly  lifeless,  he  was  left  todie.”* 

“  A  few  hours  afterwards  he  was  supplied  with  food 
and  water,  and  was  suffered  to  recuperate  for  a  few 
days,  until  he  was  enabled  to  attend  at  the  council- 
house,  and  receive  the  announcement  of  his  final 
doom.  It  was  here  decided  that  he  should  be  made 
a  public  sacrifice  to  the  vengeance  of  the  nation.  The 
Indian  town  of  Wappatomica,  upon  the  present  site 
of  Zanesville,  Ohio,  was  the  appointed  place  of  his 
execution.  Being  in  a  state  of  utter  exhaustion  his 
escape  was  deemed  impossible,  and  he  was  carelessly 
guarded.  In  despair  he  attempted  it.  He  was 
promptly  recaptured  and  punished  by  being  takem  to 
a  neighboring  creek  where  he  was  dragged  through 
mud  and  water,  till  life  was  nearly  extinct.  Still  his 
constitutional  vigor  triumphed,  and  he  revived. 

Wappatomica  was  a  British  trading  post.  Here 


*  Macdonald’s  Sketches 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


Kenton  met  an  old  comrade,  Simon  Girty,  who  had 
become  a  renegade,  had  joined  the  Indians,  and  had 
so  adopted  their  dress  and  manners  as  hardly  to  be 
distinguished  from  his  savage  associates.  Girty  cau¬ 
tiously  endeavored  to  save  the  condemned  prisoner. 
He  represented  to  the  band  that  it  would  be  of  great 
advantage  to  them  to  have  possession  of  one  so  in¬ 
timately  acquainted  with  all  the  white  settlements  and 
their  resources. 

A  respite  was  granted.  Another  council  was  held. 
The  spirit  of  Indian  revenge  prevailed.  Kenton  was 
again  doomed  to  death,  to  be  preceded  by  the  terri¬ 
ble  ordeal  of  running  the  gauntlet. 

But  a  British  officer,  influenced  by  the  persuasions 
of  the  Indian  chief  Logan,  the  friend  of  the  white 
man,  urged  upon  the  Indian  chiefs  that  the  British 
officers  at  Detroit  would  regard  the  possession  of 
Kenton,  with  the  information  he  had  at  his  command, 
as  a  great  acquisition,  and  that  they  would  pay  for 
him  a  ransom  of  at  least  one  hundred  dollars.  They 
took  him  to  Detroit ;  the  ransom  was  paid,  and 
Kenton  became  the  prisoner  of  the  British  officersf 
instead  of  the  savage  chieftains.  Still  he  was  a 
prisoner,  though  treated  with  ordinary  humanity,  and 
was  allowed  the  liberty  of  the  town. 

There  were  two  other  American  captives  there. 
Captain  Nathan  Bullit  and  Jesse  Coffer.  Escape 


SUFFERINGS  OF  THE  PIONEERS.  1 49 

seemed  impossible,  as  it  could  only  be  effected  through 
a  wilderness  four  hundred  miles  in  extent,  crowded 
with  wandering  Indian  bands,  where  they  would  be 
imminently  exposed  to  recapture,  or  to  death  by 
starvation. 

Simon  Kenton  was  a  very  handsome  man.  He  won 
the  sympathies  of  a  very  kind  English  woman,  Mrs. 
Harvey,  the  wife  of  one  of  the  traders.  She  secretly 
obtained  for  him  and  his  two  companions,  and  con¬ 
cealed  in  a  hollow  tree,  powder,  lead,  moccasins,  and 
a  quantity  of  dried  beef.  One  dark  night,  when  the 
Indians  were  engaged  in  a  drunken  bout,  she  met 
Kenton  in  the  garden  and  handed  him  three  of  the  best 
rifles,  which  she  had  selected  from  those  stacked  near 
/he  house.  The  biographer  of  these  events  writes  : 

“  When  a  woman  engages  to  do  an  action,  she  will 
risk  limb,  life  or  character,  to  serve  him  whom  she 
respects  or  wishes  to  befriend.  How  differently  the 
same  action  would  be  viewed  by  different  per¬ 
sons  !  By  Kenton  and  his  friends  her  conduct  was 
viewed  as  the  benevolent  conduct  of  a  good  angel ; 
while  if  the  part  she  played  in  behalf  of  Kenton  and 
his  companions  had  been  known  to  the  commander  at 
Detroit,  she  would  have  been  looked  upon  as  a 
traitress,  who  merited  the  scorn  and  contempt  of  all 
honest  citizens.  This  night  was  the  last  that  Kenton 
ever  saw  or  heard  of  her. 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


150 

Our  fugitives  traveled  mostly  by  night,  guided  by 
the  stars.  After  passing  through  a  series  of  wonderful 
adventures,  which  we  have  not  space  here  to  record, 
on  the  thirty-third  day  of  their  escape,  they  reached 
the  settlement  at  the  Falls  of  the  Ohio,  now  Louis¬ 
ville.  During  the  rest  of  the  war,  Kenton  was  a  very 
active  partisan.  He  died  in  the  year  1836,  over  eighty 
years  of  age,  having  been  for  more  than  a  quarter  of  f 
century  an  honored  member  of  the  Methodist  Chirr:  ‘ 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Life  in  the  Wilderness. 


Stewart  killed  by  the  Indians. — Squire  Boone  returns  to  fctaa  Settle* 
ments. — Solitary  Life  of  Daniel  Boone. — Return  of  Squire  Boutoa. 
—Extended  and  Romantic  Explorations. — Charms  and  Perils  <4 

the  Wilderness. — The  Emigrant  Party _ The  Fatal  Ambuscade. — 

Rotrest  of  the  Emigrants. — Solitude  of  the  Wilderness. — Expe¬ 
dition  of  Lewis  and  Clarke. — Extraordinary  Adventures  at 
Cotter. 


There  were  now  four  hungry  men  to  occupy  the 
little  camp  of  our  bold  adventurers.  They  do  not 
seem  to  have  been  conscious  of  enduring  any  hard¬ 
ships.  The  winter  was  mild.  Their  snug  tent 
furnished  perfect  protection  from  wind  and  rain. 
With  abundant  fuel,  their  camp-fire  ever  blazed 
brightly.  Still  it  was  necessary  for  them  to  be  diligent 
in  hunting,  to  supply  themselves  with  their  daily  food. 
Bread,  eggs,  milk,  butter,  sugar,  and  even  salt,  were 
articles  of  which  they  were  entirely  destitute. 

One  day,  not  long  after  the  arrival  of  Squire  Boone* 
Daniel  Boone,  with  his  companion  Stewart,  was  a 
long  distance  from  the  camp,  hunting.  Suddenly 
the  terrible  war-whoop  of  the  Indians  resounded  from 

a  thicket,  and  a  shower  of  arrows  fell  around  them, 

(161) 


152 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


Stewart,  pierced  by  one  of  these  deadly  missiles,  fell 
mortally  wounded.  A  sturdy  savage  sprang  from  the 
ambuscade  upon  his  victim,  and  with  a  yell  buried  a 
tomahawk  in  his  brain.  Then,  grasping  with  one 
hand  the  hair  on  the  top  of  his  head,  he  made  a  rapid 
circular  cut  with  his  gleaming  knife,  and  tore  off  the 
scalp,  leaving  the  skull  bare.  The  revolting  deed  was 
done  quicker  than  it  can  be  described.  Shaking  the 
bloody  trophy  in  his  hand,  he  gave  a  whoop  of 
exultation  which  echoed  far  and  wide  through  the 
solitudes  of  the  forest. 

Boone,  swift  of  foot  as  the  antelope,  escaped  and 
reached  the  camp  -with  the  sad  tidings  of  the  death  of 
his  companion,  and  of  the  presence,  in  their  immediate 
vicinity,  of  hostile  Indians.  This  so  affrighted  the 
North  Carolinian  who  had  come  with  Squire  Boone, 
that  he  resolved  upon  an  immediate  return  to  the 
Yadkin.  He  set  out  alone,  and  doubtless  perished 
by  the  way,  as  he  was  never  heard  of  again.  A 
skeleton,  subsequently  found  in  the  wilderness,  was 
supposed  to  be  the  remains  of  the  unfortunate  hunter. 
He  probably  perished  through  exhaustion,  or  by  the 
arrow  or  tomahawk  of  the  savage. 

The  two  brothers,  Daniel  and  Squire,  were  now 
left  entirely  alone. 

They  selected  a  favorable  spot  in  a  wild  ravin® 
where  they  would  be  the  least  likely  to  be  discovered 


LIFE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS.  1 53 

by  hunting  bands,  and  built  for  themselves  a  snug 
and  comfortable  log-house,  in  which  they  would  be 
more  effectually  sheltered  from  the  storms  and  cold 
of  winter,  and  into  which  they  moved  from  their  open 
camp.  Here  they  remained,  two  loving  brothers  of 
congenial  tastes,  during  the  months  of  January,  Feb¬ 
ruary,  March  and  April.  Solitary  as  their  life  must 
have  been  probably,  every  hour  brought  busy  employ¬ 
ment.  Each  day’s  food  was  to  be  obtained  by  the 
rifle.  Wood  was  to  be  procured  for  their  fire.  All 
their  clothing,  from  the  cap  to  the  moccasin,  w^as  to 
be  fashioned  by  their  own  hands  from  the  skin  of  the 
deer,  which  they  had  carefully  tanned  into  pliancy 
and  softness ;  and  there  were  to  be  added  to  their 
cabin  many  conveniences  which  required  much  in¬ 
genuity  with  knife  and  hatchet  for  their  only  tools, 
and  with  neither  nail  nor  screw  for  their  construction. 
In  addition  to  this  they  were  under  the  necessity  of 
being  ever  on  the  alert  to  discover  indications  of  the 
approach  of  the  Indians. 

The  winter  passed  away,  not  only  undisturbed,  but 
evidently  very  happily.  It  is  remarkable  that  their 
retreat  was  not  discovered  by  any  of  the  Indian 
bands,  who  in  pursuit  of  game  were  constantly  roving 
over  those  rich  hunting  grounds. 

As  summer’s  warmth  returned,  Squire  Boone  de¬ 
rided  to  retrace  his  steps  to  the  Yadkin,  to  carry  fct; 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


*54 

his  brother’s  family  news  of  his  safety,  and  to  obtain 
much  needed  supplies  of  powder  and  of  lead.  There 
h  nc  satisfactory  explanation  of  the  motives  which 
£©uld  have  induced  Daniel,  after  the  absence  of  a 
year  from  his  home,  to  remain  alone  in  that  solitary 
cabin.  In  his  autobiography  he  has  assigned  no 
reason  for  the  extraordinary  decision.  One  of  the 
most  judicious  of  his  biographers  makes  the  following 
statement  which  by  no  means  solves  the  mystery: 

“  When  the  spring  came  it  was  time  for  another 
movement.  The  spring  came  early,  and  the  awaking 
to  its  foliage  seemed  like  the  passing  from  night  to 
the  day.  The  game  had  reduced  their  powder  and 
lead,  and  without  these  there  was  no  existence  to  the 
white  man.  Again  Daniel  Boone  rises  to  the  emer¬ 
gency.  It  was  necessary  that  the  settlement  which 
they  had  made  should  be  continued  and  protected, 
and  it  was  the  duty  in  the  progress  of  events  that  one 
of  them  should  remain  to  that  task.  He  made  the 
selection  and  chose  himself.  He  had  the  courage  to 
remain  alone.  And  while  lie  felt  the  keenest  desire 
to  see  his  own  family,  he  felt  that  he  had  a  noble 
purpose  to  serve  and  was  prepared  for  it.”  * 

Daniel  Boone,  in  his  quaint  autobiography,  in  the 
following  terms  alludes  to  the  departure  of  his 


•  Life  of  Boone,  by  W.  H,  B©gart. 


LIFE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS.  I§§ 

brother  and  his  own  solitary  mode  of  life  during  the 
three  months  of  his  brother’s  absence : 

“On  the  first  day  of  May,  1770,  \ny  brother  re¬ 
turned  home  to  the  settlement  by  himself  for  a  new 
recruit  of  horses  and  ammunition,  leaving  me  by  my* 
self  without  bread,  salt  or  sugar,  without  company  of 
my  fellow  creatures,  or  even  a  horse  or  dog.  I  con¬ 
fess  I  never  before  was  under  greater  necessity  of 
exercising  philosophy  and  fortitude.  A  few  days  I 
passed  uncomfortably.  The  idea  of  a  beloved  wife 
and  family,  and  their  anxiety  on  account  of  my  ab¬ 
sence  and  exposed  situation,  made  sensible  impres¬ 
sions  on  my  heart.  A  thousand  dreadful  apprehen¬ 
sions  presented  themselves  to  my  view,  and  had 
undoubtedly  exposed  me  to  melancholy  if  further 
indulged. 

“  One  day  I  took  a  tour  through  the  country,  and 
the  diversity  and  beauties  of  nature  I  met  with  in 
this  charming  season,  expelled  every  gloomy  and 
vexatious  thought.  Just  at  the  close  of  the  day  the 
gentle  gales  retired  and  left  the  place  to  the  disposal 
of  a  profound  calm.  Not  a  breeze  shook  the  most 
tremulous  leaf.  I  had  gained  the  summit  of  a  com¬ 
manding  ridge,  and  looking  around  with  astonishing 
delight  beheld  the  ample  plain,  the  beauteous  tracts 
below.  On  the  other  hand  I  surveyed  the  famous 
river  Ohio,  that  rolled  in  silent  dignity,  marking  the 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


156 

western  boundary  of  Kentucky,  with  inconceivable 
grandeur.  At  a  vast  distance  I  beheld  the  mountains 
lift  their  venerable  heads  and  penetrate  the  clou  ds. 

“  I  kindled  a  fire  near  a  fountain  of  sweet  water 
and  feasted  on  the  loin  of  a  buck.  The  fallen  shades 
of  night  soon  overspread  the  whole  hemisphere,  and 
the  earth  seemed  to  gape  after  the  hovering  moisture. 
My  roving  excursion  this  day  had  fatigued  my  body 
and  diverted  my  imagination.  I  laid  me  down  tc 
sleep,  and  I  woke  not  until  the  sun  had  chased  away 
the  night  I  continued  this  tour,  and  in  a  lew  days 
explored  a  considerable  part  of  tike  country,  each  day 
equally  pleased  as  the  first.  I  returned  to  my  old 
camp  which  was  not  disturbed  in  my  absence.  I  did 
not  confine  my  lodging  to  it,  but  often  reposed  in 
thick  cane  brakes,  to  avoid  the  savages,  who  I  believe 
often  visited  it,  but,  fortunately  for  me,  in  my  ab¬ 
sence. 

0  In  this  situation  I  was  constantly  exposed  to 
danger  and  death.  Hew  unhappy  such  a  condition 
for  a  man  tormented  with  fear,  which  is  vain  if  bo 
danger  comes  ;  and  if  it  does,  only  augments  the 
pain  !  It  was  my  happiness  to  be  destitute  of  this 
afflicting  passion,  with  which  I  had  the  greatest  reason 
to  be  affected.  The  prowling  wolves  diverted  my 
nocturnal  hours  with  perpetual  bowlings,  and  the 
various  species  of  animals  in  this  vast  forest,  in  the 


LIFE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS.  I $f 

slay- time  were  continually  in  my  view.  Thus  I  was 
surrounded  with  plenty  in  the  midst  of  want.  I  was 
happy  ir.  the  midst  of  dangers  and  inconveniences. 
In  such  a  diversity  it  was  impossible  I  should  be  di3- 
posed  to  melancholy.  No  populous  city,  with  all  the 
varieties  of  commerce  and  stately  structures,  could 
afford  so  much  pleasure  to  my  mind,  as  the  beauties 
of  nature  I  found  here. 

*  Thus  through  an  uninterrupted  scene  of  sylvan 
pleasures,  I  spent  the  time  until  the  twenty-seventh 
day  of  July  following,  when  my  brother,  to  my  great 
felicity,  met  me,  according  to  appointment,  at  our  old 
camp.” 

Boone  was  at  this  time  thirty-six  years  of  age.  He 
was  about  five  feet  ten  inches  in  height,  and  of  re¬ 
markably  vigorous  and  athletic  frame.  His  life  in 
the  open  air,  his  perfect  temperance,  and  his  freedom 
from  all  exciting  passions,  gave  him  constant  health. 
Squire  brought  back  to  his  brother  the  gratifying 
news  that  his  wife  Rebecca  was  in  good  health  and 
spirits,  and  cheerfully  acquiesced  in  whatever  decision 
her  husband  might  make,  in  reference  to  his  absence. 
She  had  full  confidence  in  the  soundness  of  his  judg¬ 
ment,  and  in  his  conjugal  and  parental  love.  The 
children  were  all  well,  and  from  the  farm  and  the 
forest  the  wants  of  the  family  were  fully  supplied. 

It  appears  that  Squire  Boone  had  succeeded  in 
u 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


bringing  one  or  two  horses  across  the  mountains.  The 
abundance  of  grass  kept  them  in  fine  condition.  Upon 
the  backs  of  these  horses,  the  pioneers  could  traverse 
the  treeless  prairies  without  obstruction,  and  large 
portions  of  the  forest  were  as  free  from  underbrush 
as  the  park  of  an  English  nobleman.  Invaluable  m 
these  animals  were  to  the  adventurers,  they  greatly 
increased  their  perils.  They  could  not  easily  be  con¬ 
cealed.  Their  footprints  could  not  be  effaced,  and 
there  was  nothing  the  Indians  coveted  so  greatly  as 
a  horse. 

The  two  adventurers  now  set  out  on  horseback  for 
an  exploring  tour  to  the  south-west.  Following  a 
line  nearly  parallel  with  the  Cumberland  Range,  after 
traversing  a  magnificent  region  of  beauty  and  fertility 
for  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  they  reached 
the  banks  of  the  Cumberland  river.  This  majestic 
stream  takes  its  rise  on  the  western  slope  of  the 
Cumberland  mountains.  After  an  exceedingly  cir¬ 
cuitous  route  of  six  hundred  miles,  running  far  down 
into  Tennessee,  it  turns  north-westerly  again,  am! 
empties  its  waters  into  the  Ohio,  about  sixty  miles 
above  the  entrance  of  that  river  into  the  Mississippi 

It  was  midsummer.  The  weather  was  delightful. 
The  forest  free  from  underbrush,  attractive  as  the 
most  artificial  park,  and  the  smooth  sweep  of  the 
treeless  prairie  presented  before  them  as  enticing  a 


LIFE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 


159 


route  of  travel  as  the  imagination  could  desire. 
There  were  of  course  hardships  and  privations,  which 
would  have  been  regarded  as  very  severe  by  the 
dwellers  in  the  sealed  houses,  but  none  which  dis® 
turbed  in  the  slightest  degree  the  equanimity  of  these 
hardy  adventurers.  They  journeyed  very  leisurely ; 
seven  months  being  occupied  in  the  tour.  Probably 
only  a  few  miles  were  accomplished  each  day.  With 
soft  saddles  made  of  the  skin  of  buffalo,  with  their 
horses  never  urged  beyond  a  walk,  with  bright  skies 
above  them,  and  vistas  of  beauty  ever  opening  before 
them,  and  luxuriance,  bloom  and  fragrance  spread 
everywhere  around,  their  journey  seemed  replete  with 
enjoyment  of  the  purest  kind. 

Though  it  was  necessary  to  practice  the  extreme  ol 
caution,  to  avoid  capture  by  the  Indians,  our  adven¬ 
turers  do  not  seem  to  have  been  annoyed  in  the  slightest 
degree  with  any  painful  fears  on  that  account.  Each 
morning  they  carefully  scanned  the  horizon,  to  see  if 
anywhere  there  could  be  seen  the  smoke  of  the  camp¬ 
fire  curling  up  from  the  open  prairie  or  from  the 
forest.  Through  the  day  they  were  ever  on  the  alertj 
examining  the  trails  which  they  occasionally  passed,  ta 
see  if  there  were  any  fresh  foot  prints,  or  other  indiU 
cations  of  the  recent  presence  of  their  foe.  At  night, 
before  venturing  to  kindle  their  own  camp-fire,  they 
looked  cautiously  in  every  direction  to  see  if  a  gleam 


DANIEL  BOONS. 


from  an  Indian  encampment  could  anywhere  be 
seen.  Thus  from  the  first  of  August  to  the  ensuing 
month  of  March,  these  two  bold  men  traversed,  for 
many  hundred  miles,  an  unknown  country,  filled  with 
wandering  hunting  bands  of  hostile  Indians,  and  yet 
avoided  capture  or  detection. 

If  a  storm  arose,  they  would  rear  their  cabin  in 
some  secluded  dell,  and  basking  in  the  warmth  of 
their  camp-fire  wait  until  the  returning  sun  invited 
them  to  resume  their  journey.  Or  if  they  came  to 
some  of  nature’s  favored  haunts,  where  Eden-like 
attractions  were  spread  around  them,  on  the  borders 
of  the  lake,  by  the  banks  of  the  stream,  or  beneath  the 
brow  of  the  mountain,  they  would  tarry  for  a  few 
days,  reveling  in  delights,  which  they  both  had  the 
taste  to  appreciate. 

In  this  way,  they  very  thoroughly  explored  the 
upper  valley  of  the  Cumberland  river.  For  some 
reason  not  given,  they  preferred  to  return  north  several 
hundred  miles  to  the  Kentucky  river,  as  the  seat  of 
their  contemplated  settlement.  The  head  waters  of 
this  stream  are  near  those  of  the  Cumberland.  It 
however  flows  through  the  very  heart  of  Kentucky, 
till  it  enters  the  Ohio  river,  midway  between  the 
present  cities  of  Cincinnati  and  Louisville.  It  was  in 
the  month  of  March  that  they  reached  the  Kentucky 
river  on  their  return.  For  some  time  they  wandered 


LIFE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS.  iC! 

along  its  banks  searching  for  the  more  suitable  situ¬ 
ation  for  the  location  of  a  colony. 

w  The  exemption  of  these  men/’  said  W.  IL 
Bogart,  “  from  assault  by  the  Indians  during  all  this 
long  period  of  seven  months,  in  which,  armed  and  on 
horseback,  they  seem  to  have  roamed  just  where  they 
chose,  is  most  wonderful.  It  has  something  about  it 
which  seems  like  a  special  interposition  of  Providence, 
beyond  the  ordinary  guardianship  over  the  progress 
of  man.  On  the  safety  of  these  men  rested  the  hope 
of  a  nation.  A  very  distinguished  authority  has 
declared,  that  without  Boone,  the  settlements  could 
not  have  been  upheld  and  the  conquest  of  Kentucky 
would  have  been  reserved  for  the  emigrants  of  the 
nineteenth  century.” 

Boone  having  now,  after  an  absence  of  nearly  two 
years,  apparently  accomplished  the  great  object  of 
his  mission ;  having,  after  the  most  careful  and  extent 
sive  exploration,  selected  such  a  spot  as  he  deemed 
most  attractive  for  the  future  home  of  his  family, 
decided  to  return  to  the  Yadkin  and  make  prepar¬ 
ations  for  their  emigration  across  the  mountains.  To  us 
now,  such  a  movement  seems  to  indicate  an  almost  in¬ 
sane  boldness  and  recklessness.  To  take  wife  and  chil« 
dren  into  a  pathless  wilderness  filled  with  unfriendly 
savages,  five  hundred  miles  from  any  of  the  settle¬ 
ments  of  civilization  would  seem  to  invite  death.  A 


x62 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


family  could  not  long  be  concealed.  Their  discovery 
by  the  Indians  would  be  almost  the  certain  precursor 
of  their  destruction.  Boone,  in  his  autobiography, 
says  in  allusion  to  this  hazardous  adventure : 

“  I  returned  home  to  my  family  with  a  determi¬ 
nation  to  bring  them  as  soon  as  possible,  at  the  risk  of 
my  life  and  fortune,  to  live  in  Kentucky,  which  I 
esteemed  a  second  paradise.” 

The  two  brothers  accomplished  the  journey  safely, 
and  Daniel  Boone  found  his  family,  after  his  long 
absence,  in  health  and  prosperity.  One  would  have 
supposed  that  the  charms  of  home  on  the  banks  of 
the  Yadkin,  where  they  could  dwell  in  peace,  abund¬ 
ance  and  safety,  would  have  lured  our  adventurer 
to  rest  from  his  wanderings.  And  it  is  probable  that 
for  a  time,  he  wavered  in  his  resolution.  Two 
years  elapsed  ere  he  set  out  for  his  new  home  in  the 
Far-West. 

There  was  much  to  be  done  in  preparation  for  so 
momentous  a  movement  He  sold  his  farm  on  the 
Yadkin  and  invested  the  proceeds  in  such  comforts 
as  would  be  available  on  the  banks  of  the  Kentucky. 
Money  would  be  of  no  value  to  him  there.  A  path 
had  been  discovered  by  which  horses  could  be  led 
through  the  mountains,  and  thus  many  articles  could 
be  transported  which  could  not  be  taken  in  packs  on 
the  back.  Several  of  the  neighbors,  elated  by  the 


LIFE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 


163 


description  which  Boone  gave  of  the  paradise  ht  had 
found,  were  anxious  to  join  his  family  in  their  emigra¬ 
tion.  There  were  also  quite  a  number  of  young  men 
rising  here  and  there,  who,  lured  by  the  romance  of 
the  adventure,  were  eager  to  accompany  the  expedi¬ 
tion.  All  these  events  caused  delays.  The  party  of 
emigrants  became  more  numerous  than  Boone  at  first 
expected. 

It  was  not  until  the  twenty-fifth  of  September,  1773, 
that  Daniel  Boone,  his  brother  Squire,  and  quite 
a  large  party  of  emigrants,  probably  in  all — men, 
women  and  children— not  less  than  sixty  in  number, 
commenced  their  journey  across  the  mountains.  There 
were  five  families  and  forty  pioneers,  all  well  armed, 
who  were  quite  at  home  amid  the  trials  and  priva¬ 
tions  of  the  wilderness.  Four  horses,  heavily  laden, 
led  the  train  through  the  narrow  trails  of  the  forest. 
Then  came,  in  single  file,  the  remainder  of  the  party, 
of  all  ages  and  both  sexes.  It  must  have  been  a 
singular  spectacle  which  was  presented,  as  this  long 
line  wound  its  way  through  the  valleys  and  over  the 
ridges. 

Sqvdre  Boone  was  quite  familiar  with  the  path.  It 
was  delightful  autumnal  weather.  The  days  were 
long  and  calm,  and  yet  not  oppressively  hot  There 
were  no  gloved  gentlemen  or  delicate  ladies  in  thf 

company.  All  were  hardy  men  and  women,  accus- 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


tomed  to  endurance.  Each  day’s  journey  was  short 
An  hour  before  the  sun  disappeared  in  the  west,  the 
little  village  of  cabins  arose,  where  some  spring  gur¬ 
gled  from  the  cliff,  or  some  sparkling  mountain  stream 
rippled  before  them.  In  front  of  each  cabin  the  camp 
fire  blazed.  All  was  animation  and  apparent  joy,  as 
the  women  prepared  the  evening  meal,  and  the 
wearied  children  rested  upon  their  couch  of  dried 
leaves  or  fragrant  twigs.  If  a  storm  arose,  they  had 
but  to  remain  beneath  their  shelter  until  it  passed 
away. 

“Traveling,”  says  Madame  de  Stael,  who  was  ac¬ 
customed  to  the  most  luxurious  of  European  convey¬ 
ances,  “  is  the  most  painful  of  pleasures.”  Probably 
our  travelers  on  this  journey  experienced  as  many 
pleasures  and  as  few  pains  as  often  fall  to  the  lot  of 
any  tourist.  The  solitary  wilderness  has  its  attrac¬ 
tions  as  well  as  the  thronged  town. 

These  bold  men  armed  with  their  rifles,  under  such 
an  accomplished  leader  as  Daniel  Boone,  penetrated 
the  wilderness  with  almost  the  strength  of  an  inva¬ 
ding  army.  Upon  the  open  prairie,  the  superiority  of 
their  arms  would  compensate  for  almost  any  inferior¬ 
ity  of  numbers.  Indeed  they  had  little  to  fear  from 
the  savages,  unless  struck  suddenly  with  overwhelm¬ 
ing  numbers  leaping  upon  them  from  some  ambu&h, 
Pleasant  days  came  and  went,  while  nothing  occurred 


LIFE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS.  1 65 

&o  interrupt  the  prosperity  of  their  journey.  They 
were  approaching  the  celebrated  Cumberland  Gap, 
which  seems  to  be  a  door  that  nature  has  thrown 
open  for  passing  through  this  great  mountain  barrier. 
The  vigilance  they  ought  to  have  practiced  had  bees 
in  some  degree  relaxed  by  their  freedom  from  all 
alarm.  The  cows  had  fallen  a  few  miles  behind, 
seven  young  men  were  with  them,  a  son  of  Daniei 
Boone  being  one  of  the  number.  The  main  party 
was  not  aware  how  far  the  cattle  had  fallen  in  the 
rear. 

It  is  probable  that  the  savages  had  been  following 
them  for  several  days,  watching  for  an  opportunity  to 
strike,  for  suddenly,  as  they  were  passing  through  a 
narrow  ravine,  the  fearful  war-whoop  resounded  from 
the  thickets  on  both  sides,  a  shower  of  arrows  fell 
upon  them,  and  six  of  the  seven  young  men  were 
instantly  struck  down  by  these  deadly  missiles.  One 
only  escaped.  The  attack  was.  so  sudden,  so  unex¬ 
pected,  that  the  emigrants  had  scarcely  time  for  one 
discharge  of  their  firearms,  ere  they  were  struck  with 
death.  The  party  in  advance  heard  with  conster¬ 
nation  the  reports  of  the  muskets,  and  immediately 
returned  to  the  scene  of  the  disaster.  But  several 
miles  intervened.  They  met  the  fugitive  who  had 
escaped,  bleeding  and  almost  breathless. 

Hurrying  on,  an  awful  spectacle  met  their  view, 


l66 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


The  bodies  of  six  of  the  young  men  lay  in  the  path, 
mangled  and  gory,  with  their  scalps  torn  from  theif 
heads  :  the  cattle  were  driven  into  the  forest  beyond 
pursuit.  One  of  these  victims  was  the  eldest  son  o4 
Daniel  Boone,  James  was  a  noble  lad  of  but  seventeen 
years.  His  untimely  death  was  a  terrible  blow  to  his 
father  and  mother.  This  massacre  took  place  on  the 
tenth  of  October,  only  a  fortnight  after  the  expedition 
had  commenced  its  march.  The  gloom  which  it  threw 
over  the  minds  of  the  emigrants  was  so  great,  that 
the  majority  refused  to  press  any  farther  into  a  wil¬ 
derness  where  they  would  encounter  such  perils. 

They  had  already  passed  two  mountain  ridges. 
Between  them  there  was  a  very  beautiful  valley, 
through  which  flows  the  Clinch  River.  This  many 
leagues  below,  uniting  with  the  Holston  River,  flowing 
on  the  other  side  of  Powell’s  Ridge,  composes  the 
majestic  Tennessee,  which,  extending  far  down  into 
Alabama,  turns  again  north,  and  traversing  the  whole 
breadth  of  Tennessee  and  Kentucky,  empties  into  the 
Ohio. 

Notwithstanding  the  remonstrances  of  Daniel  Boons 
and  his  brother,  the  majority  of  the  emigrants  resolved 
to  retreat  forty  miles  over  the  Walden  Ridge,  and 
establish  themselves  in  the  valley  of  the  Clinch, 
Daniel  Boone,  finding  all  his  attempts  to  encourage, 
them  to  proceed  in  vain,  decided  with  his  customary 


LIFE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS,  l6f 

good  sense  to  acquiesce  in  their  wishes,  and  quietly 
to  await  further  developments.  The  whole  party 
consequently  retraced  their  steps,  and  reared  their 
cabins  on  fertile  meadows  in  the  valley  of  the  Clinch 
River.  Here,  between  parallel  ridges  of  mountains 
running  north-east  and  south-west,  Boone  with  his 
disheartened  emigrants  passed  seven  months.  This 
settlement  was  within  the  limits  of  the  present  State 
of  Virginia,  in  its  most  extreme  south-western  comer. 

The  value  of  the  vast  country  beyond  the  mountains 
was  beginning  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  governors 
of  the  several  colonies.  Governor  Dunmore  of  Vir¬ 
ginia  had  sent  a  party  of  surveyors  to  explore  the 
valley  of  the  Ohio  River  as  far  as  the  celebrated  Falls 
of  the  Ohio,  near  the  present  site  of  Louisville.  Quite 
a  body  of  these  surveyors  had  built  and  fortified  a 
camp  near  the  Falls,  and  were  busy  in  exploring  the 
country,  in  preparation  for  the  granting  of  lands 
as  rewards  for  services  to  the  officers  and  soldiers  in 
the  French  war.  These  pioneers  were  far  away  in  the 
wilderness,  four  hundred  miles  beyond  any  settlement 
of  the  whites.  They  were  surrounded  by  thousands 
of  Indian  warriors,  and  still  they  felt  somewhat 
secure,  as  a  treaty  of  peace  had  been  made  by  the 
Governor  of  Virginia  with  the  neighboring  chiefs. 
But,  notwithstanding  this  treaty,  many  of  the  more 
intelligent  of  the  Indians  foresaw  the  inevitable  des* 


1 68 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


traction  of  their  hunting  grounds,  should  the  whits 
men  succeed  in  establishing  themselves  on  their  lands, 
and  cutting  them  up  into  farms. 

A  friendly  Indian  had  informed  Governor  Dunmora 
that  a  very  formidable  conspiracy  had  been  organised 
by  the  tribes  for  the  destruction  of  the  party  en* 
camped  at  the  Falls  of  the  Ohio,  and  for  the  extermi¬ 
nation  of  every  other  party  of  whites  who  should 
penetrate  their  hunting  grounds.  It  was  in  accordance 
with  this  conspiracy  that  Daniel  Boone’s  party  was 
so  fiercely  assailed  when  near  the  Gap,  in  the  Cum¬ 
berland  mountains  ;  and  it  was  probably  the  know¬ 
ledge  of  this  conspiracy,  thus  practically  developed, 
which  led  the  husbands  and  fathers  to  abandon  their 
enterprise  of  plunging  into  the  wilderness  of  Ken¬ 
tucky. 

There  were  about  forty  men  all  numbered,  in  the 
little  band  of  surveyors  at  the  Falls.  They  were  in 
terrible  peril.  Unconscious  of  danger,  and  supposing 
the  Indians  to  be  friendly,  they  were  liable  to  be 
attacked  on  any  day  by  overwhelming  numbers  of 
savages,  and  utterly  exterminated.  It  consequently 
became  a  matter  of  great  moment  that  Governor 
Dun  more  should  send  them  word  of  their  danger, 
and  if  possible  secure  their  safe  return  to  the  settle¬ 
ments,  But  who  would  undertake  such  a  mission  ? 
One  fraught  with  greater  danger  could  not  easily  he 


LIFE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 


169 


imagined.  The  courier  must  traverse  on  foot  a 
distance  of  four  or  five  hundred  miles  through  a 
pathless  wilderness,  filled  with  hunting  bands  of 
hostile  savages.  He  must  live  upon  the  game  he 
£Ould  shoot  each  day,  when  every  discharge  of  his 
musket  was  liable  to  bring  upon  him  scores  of  foes. 
He  must  either  eat  his  food  raw,  or  cook  it  at  a  hie 
whose  gleam  at  night,  or  smoke  by  day,  would  be 
almost  sure  to  attract  the  attention  of  death-dealing 
enemies.  He  must  conceal  his  footprints  from  hunting 
bands,  wandering  far  and  wide  in  every  direction,  so 
keen  in  their  sagacity  that  they  could  almost  follow  the 
track  of  the  lightest-footed  animal  through  the  forest  or 
over  the  prairie. 

The  Indians  had  also  well-trained  dogs,  who  being 
cnce  put  upon  the  scent,  could  with  unerring  instinct 
follow  any  object  of  search,  until  it  was  overtaken. 

The  name  of  Daniel  Boone  was  mentioned  to 
Governor  Dunmore  as  precisely  the  man  to  meet 
this  exigency.  The  Governor  made  application  to 
the  practiced  hunter,  and  Boone,  without  the  slightest 
hesitancy,  accepted  the  perilous  office.  Indeed  he 
seems  to  have  been  entirely  unconscious  of  ting 
heroism  he  was  developing.  Never  did  knight  errant 
of  the  middle  ages  undertake  an  achievement  of  equal 
daring ;  for  capture  not  only  was  certain  death,  but 
death  under  the  most  frightful  tortures.  But  Boone* 


170 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


calm,  imperturbable,  pensive,  with  never  a  shade  o! 
boastfulness  in  word  or  action,  embarked  in  the  enter¬ 
prise  as  if  it  had  been  merely  one  of  the  ordinary 
occurrences  of  every-day  life.  In  the  following  modest 
words  he  records  the  event  in  his  autobiography: 

“I  remained  with  my  family  on  the  Clinch  river 
until  the  sixth  of  June,  1774,  when  I,  and  one  Michael 
Stoner,  were  solicited  by  Governor  Dunmore  of  Vir¬ 
ginia,  to  go  to  the  Falls  of  the  Ohio  to  conduct  into  the 
settlements  a  number  of  surveyors  that  had  been 
sent  thither  by  him  some  months  before,  this  country 
having  about  this  time  drawn  the  attention  of  many 
adventurers.  We  immediately  complied  with  the 
Governor’s  request,  and  conducted  in  the  surveyors, 
completing  a  tour  of  eight  hundred  miles,  through 
many  difficulties,  in  sixty-two  days.” 

The  narrative  which  follows  will  give  the  reader 
some  idea  of  the  wilderness  which  Boone  was  about 
to  penetrate  and  the  perils  which  he  was  to  encounter. 

An  emigrant  of  these  early  days  who  lived  to 
witness  the  transformation  of  the  wilderness  from  a 
scene  of  unbroken  solitude  into  the  haunts  of 
busy  men,  in  the  following  words  describes  this 
change  and  its  influence  upon  the  mind  : 

"To  a  person  who  has  witnessed  all  the  changes 
which  have  taken  place  in  the  western  country  since 
its  first  settlement,  its  former  appearance  is  like  a 


LIFE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS.  I? I 

dream  or  romance.  He  will  find  it  difficult  to  realise 
the  features  of  that  wilderness  which  was  the  abode 
of  his  infant  days.  The  little  cabin  of  his  father  no 
longer  exists.  The  little  field  and  truck  patch  which 
gave  him  a  scanty  supply  of  coarse  bread  and  vege¬ 
tables  have  been  swallowed  up  in  the  extended 
meadows,  orchard  or  grain  fields.  The  rude  fort  in 
which  his  people  had  resided  so  many  painful 
summers  has  vanished. 

u  Everywhere  surrounded  by  the  busy  hum  of 

« 

men  and  the  splendor,  arts,  refinements  and  comforts 
of  civilised  life,  his  former  state  and  that  of  his 
country  have  vanished  from  his  memory;  or  if 
sometimes  he  bestows  a  reflection  on  its  original 
aspect,  the  mind  seems  to  be  carried  back  to  a  period 
of  time  much  more  remote  than  it  really  is.  One 
advantage  at  least  results  from  having  lived  in  a  state 
of  society  ever  on  the  change  and  always  for  the 
better,  that  it  doubles  the  retrospect  of  life.  With 
me  at  any  rate  it  has  had  that  effect.  Did  not  the 
definite  number  of  my  years  teach  me  to  the  contrary, 

I  should  think  myself  at  least  one  hundred  years  old 
instead  of  fifty.  The  case  is  said  to  be  wide)}' 
different  with  those  who  have  passed  their  lives  in 
cities  or  ancient  settlements  where,  from  year  to 
year,  the  same  unchanging  aspect  of  things  presents 
itself. 


1/2 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


“One  prominent  feature  of  the  wilderness  Is  its 
solitude.  Those  who  plunged  into  the  bosom  of  this 
forest  left  behind  them  not  only  the  busy  hum  of  men, 
but  of  domesticated  animal  life  generally.  The 
solitude  of  the  night  was  interrupted  only  by  the 
howl  of  the  wolf,  the  melancholy  moan  of  the  ill- 
boding  owl  or  the  shriek  of  the  frightful  panther. 
Even  the  faithful  dog,  the  only  steadfast  companion 
of  man  among  the  brute  creation,  partook  of  the 
silence  of  the  desert ;  the  discipline  of  his  master 
forbade  him  to  bark  or  move  but  in  obedience  to  his 
command,  and  his  native  sagacity  soon  taught  the 
propriety  of  obedience  to  this  severe  government. 

“  The  day  was,  if  possible,  more  solitary  than  the 
night.  The  noise  of  the  wild  turkey,  the  croaking  of 
the  raven,  or  the  woodpecker  tapping  the  hollow 
beach  tree,  did  not  much  enliven  the  dreary  scene. 
The  various  tribes  of  singing  birds  are  not  inhabitants 
of  the  desert.  They  are  not  carnivorous  and  there¬ 
fore  must  be  fed  from  the  labors  of  man.  At  any 
rate  they  did  not  exist  in  this  country  at  its  first 
settlement. 

44  Let  the  imagination  of  the  reader  pursue  the  track 
of  the  adventurer  into  the  solitary  wilderness,  bending 
bis  course  towards  the  setting  sun  over  undulating 
liiiLo,  under  the  shade  of  large  forest  trees,  and  wading 
through  the  rank  weeds  and  grass  which  then  covered 


LIFE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS.  V/$ 

the  earth.  Now  he  views  from  the  top  of  a  hill  the 
winding  course  of  a  creek  whose  streams  he  washes 
to  explore.  Doubtful  of  its  course  and  of  his  own, 
he  ascertains  the  cardinal  points  of  north  and  south 
by  the  thickness  of  the  moss  and  bark  on  the  north 
side  of  the  ancient  trees.  Now  descending  into  a 
valley,  he  presages  his  approach  to  a  river  by  seeing 
large  ash,  basswood  and  sugar  trees  beautifully 
festooned  with  wild  grape  vines.  Watchful  as  Argus, 
his  restless  eye  catches  everything  around  him. 

“  In  an  unknown  region  and  surrounded  w'ith 
dangers,  he  is  the  sentinel  of  his  own  safety  and 
relies  on  himself  for  protection.  The  toilsome  march 
of  the  day  being  ended,  at  the  fall  of  night  he  seeks 
for  safety  some  narrow  sequestered  hollow,  and  by 
the  side  of  a  large  log  builds  a  fire  and,  after  eating 
a  coarse  and  scanty  meal,  wraps  himself  up  in  his 
blanket  and  lays  him  self  down  for  repose  on  his  bed 
of  leaves,  with  his  feet  to  the  fire,  hoping  for  favorable 
dreams,  ominous  of  future  good  luck,  while  his  faith* 
ful  dog  and  gun  rest  by  his  side. 

**  But  let  not  the  reader  suppose  that  the  pilgrim 
of  the  wilderness  could  feast  his  imagination  with  the 

f 

romantic  beauties  of  nature,  without  any  drawback 
from  conflicting  passions.  His  situation  did  not  afford 
him  much  time  for  contemplation.  He  was  an  exile 
from  the  warm  clothing  and  plentiful  mansions  of 


174 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


society.  His  homely  woodman’s  dress  soon  became 
old  and  ragged.  The  cravings  of  hunger  compelled 
him  to  sustain  from  day  to  day  the  fatigues  of  the 
chase.  Often  he  had  to  eat  his  venison,  bear's  meat, 
or  wild  turkey  without  bread  or  salt.  His  situation 
was  not  without  its  dangers.  He  did  not  know  at 
what  moment  his  foot  might  be  stung  by  a  serpent, 
at  what  moment  he  might  meet  with  the  formidable 
bear,  or  on  what  limb  of  a  tree  over  his  head  the 
murderous  panther  might  be  perched,  in  a  squatting 
attitude,  to  drop  down  upon  him  and  tear  him  in  pieces 
in  a  moment. 

"  Exiled  from  society  and  its  comforts,  the  situation 
of  the  first  adventurers  was  perilous  in  the  extreme. 
The  bite  of  a  serpent,  a  broken  limb,  a  wound  of  any 
kind,  or  a  fit  of  sickness  in  the  wilderness  without 
those  accommodations  which  wounds  and  sickness 
require,  was  a  dreadful  calamity.  The  bed  of  sickness, 
without  medical  aid,  and  above  all  to  be  destitute  of 
the  kind  attention  of  a  mother,  sister,  wife,  or  other 
female  friends,  was  a  situation  which  could  not  be 
anticipated  by  the  tenant  of  the  forest,  with  other 
sentiments  than  those  of  the  deepest  horror.”* 

There  are  no  narratives  of  more  thrilling  interest 
than  those  which  describe  the  perils  and  hair-breadth 


•  Doddridge’s  Notea. 


LIFE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS.  I 

escapes  which  some  of  these  bold  hunters  encountered. 
Immediately  after  the  purchase  of  Louisiana,  an  ex* 
pedition  under  Lewis  and  Clark  was  fitted  out,  undet 
President  Jefferson’s  administration,  to  explore  the 
vast,  mysterious,  undefined  realms  which  the  govern* 
ment  had  purchased.  In  the  month  of  May,  1804,  the 
expedition,  in  birch  canoes,  commenced  the  ascent  of 
the  Missouri  river. 

They  knew  not  whence  its  source,  what  its  length 
or  the  number  of  its  tributaries,  through  what  regions 
of  fertility  or  barrenness  it  flowed,  or  what  the  charac¬ 
ter  of  the  nations  who  might  inhabit  its  banks. 
Paddling  up  the  rapid  current  of  this  flood  of  waters 
in  their  frail  boats,  the  ascent  was  slow.  By  the  latter 
part  of  October  they  had  reached  a  point  fifteen 
hundred  miles  above  the  spot  where  the  Missouri 
enters  the  Mississippi.  Here  they  spent  the  winter 
with  some  friendly  Indians  called  the  Mandans. 

Early  in  April,  Lewis  and  Clark,  with  thirty  men 
in  their  canoes,  resumed  their  voyage.  Their  course 
was  nearly  west.  In  May  they  reached  the  mouth  of 
the  Yellow  Stone  river,  and  on  the  13th  of  June  came 
to  the  Great  Falls  of  the  Missouri.  Here  they  found 
a  series  of  cataracts  ten  miles  in  length.  At  one  spot 
the  river  plunged  over  a  precipice  eighty-seven  feet  in 
height  Carrying  their  canoes  around  these  falls,  they 
re-embarked,  and  paddled  through  what  they  called 


DANIEL  300NE. 


a  The  Gates  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.”  Here  for  sis 
miles  they  were  in  a  narrow  channel  with  perpendicular 
walls  of  rock,  rising  on  both  sides  to  the  height  of 
twelve  hundred  feet.  Thus  these  adventurers  con¬ 
tinued  their  voyage  till  they  reached  the  head  of 
navigation,  three  thousand  miles  from  the  mouth  of 
the  Missouri  river.  Passing  through  the  mountains 
they  launched  their  canoes  on  streams  flowing  to  the 
west,  through  which  they  entered  the  Columbia 
river,  reaching  its  mouth,  through  a  thousand  perils^ 
on  the  15th  of  November.  They  were  now  more 
than  four  thousand  miles  distant  from  the  mouth  of 
the  Missouri.  Such  was  the  breadth  of  the  estate 
we  had  purchased  of  France. 

Here  they  passed  their  second  winter.  In  the 
early  spring  they  commenced  their  return.  When 
they  arrived  at  the  Falls  of  the  Missouri  they  encoun¬ 
tered  a  numerous  band  of  Indians,  very  bold  and 
daring,  called  the  Blackfoot.  These  savages  were 
astonished  beyond  measure,  at  the  effect  of  the  rifle 
which  could  emit  thunder  and  lightning,  and  a  deadly 
though  invisible  bolt.  Some  of  the  boldest  endea¬ 
vored  to  wrench  the  rifles  from  some  of  the  Americans. 
Mr.  Lewis  found  it  necessary  to  shoot  one  of  them 
before  they  would  desist.  The  rest  fled  in  dismay, 
but  burning  with  the  desire  for  revenge.  The 
explorers  continuing  their  voyage  arrived  at  Saint 


LIFE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 


177 


Louis  on  the  23rd  of  September,  1806,  having  been 
absent  more  than  two  years,  and  having  traveled  more 
than  nine  thousand  miles. 

When  the  expedition,  on  its  return,  had  reached  the 
head  waters  of  the  Missouri,  two  of  these  fearless  men, 
Colter  and  Potts,  decided  to  remain  in  the  wilderness 
to  hunt  beaver.  Being  well  aware  of  the  hostility  of 
the  Blackfoot  Indians,  within  whose  regions  they  were, 
they  set  their  traps  at  night,  and  took  them  up  in  the 
first  dawn  of  the  day.  Early  one  morning,  they  were 
ascending  a  creek  in  a  canoe,  visiting  their  traps, 
when  they  were  alarmed  by  a  great  noise,  like  the 
trampling  of  animals.  They  could  see  nothing,  as 
the  perpendicular  banks  of  the  river  impeded  their 
view.  Yet  they  hoped  that  the  noise  was  occasioned 
simply  by  the  rush  of  a  herd  of  buffaloes. 

Their  doubts  were  soon  painfully  removed.  A 
band  of  six  hundred  Blackfoot  warriors  appeared 
upon  each  side  of  the  creek.  Escape  was  hopeless. 
The  Indians  beckoned  to  the  hunters  to  come  ashore. 
Colter  turned  the  head  of  the  canoe  towards  the 
bank,  and  as  soon  as  it  touched  the  land,  a  burly  savage 
seized  the  rifle  belonging  to  Potts,  and  wrenched  it 
from  his  hand.  But  Colter,  who  was  a  man  of  extra¬ 
ordinary  activity  and  strength,  grasped  the  rifle,  tore 
it  from  the  hands  of  the  Indian,  and  handed  it  back 
to  Potts.  Colter  stepped  ashore  and  was  a  captive. 


178 


DANIF.L  BOONE. 


Potts,  with  apparent  infatuation,  but  probably  in« 
fluenced  by  deliberate  thought,  pushed  again  out  into 
the  stream.  He  knew  that,  as  a  captive,  death  by 
horrible  torture  awaited  him.  He  preferred  to  pro¬ 
voke  the  savages  to  his  instant  destruction.  An 
arrow  was  shot  at  him,  which  pierced  his  body.  He 
took  deliberate  aim  at  the  Indian  who  threw  it  and 
shot  him  dead  upon  the  spot.  Instantly  a  shower  of 
arrows  whizzed  through  the  air,  and  he  fell  a  dead 
man  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat.  The  earthly  troubles 
of  Potts  were  ended.  But  fearful  were  those  upon 
which  Colter  was  about  to  enter. 

The  Indians,  after  some  deliberation  respecting  the 
manner  in  which  they  would  put  him  to  death,  strip¬ 
ped  him  entirely  naked,  and  one  of  the  chiefs  led  him 
out  upon  the  prairie  to  the  distance  of  three  or  four 
hundred  yards  from  the  rest  of  the  band  who  were 
grouped  together.  Colter  then  perceived  that  he  was 
to  have  the  dreadful  privilege  of  running  for  his  life  ; 
—he,  entirely  naked  and  unarmed,  to  be  pursued  by 
six  hundred  fleet-footed  Indians  with  arrows  and 
javelins,  and  with  their  feet  and  limbs  protected 
from  thorns  and  brambles  by  moccasins  ard  deer¬ 
skin  leggins. 

u  Save  yourself  if  you  can,”  said  the  chief  in  the 
Blackfoot  language  as  he  set  him  loose.  CHtef 
sprung  forward  with  almost  supernatural  speed.  Ii* 


LIFE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 


m 


stantly  the  Indian’s  war-whoop  burst  from  the  lips  of 
his  six  hundred  pursuers.  They  were  upon  a  plain 
about  six  miles  in  breadth  abounding  with  the  prickly 
pear.  At  the  end  of  the  plain  there  was  Jefferson 
river,  a  stream  but  a  few  rods  wide.  Every  step  Colter 
took,  bounding  forward  with  almost  the  speed  of  an 
antelope,  his  naked  feet  were  torn  by  the  thorns. 
The  physical  effort  he  made  was  so  great  that  the 
blood  gushed  from  his  nostrils,  and  flowed  profusely 
down  over  his  chest.  He  had  half  crossed  the  plain 
before  he  ventured  to  glance  over  his  shoulder  upon 
his  pursuers,  who,  with  hideous  yells,  like  baying  blood¬ 
hounds,  seemed  close  upon  his  heels.  Much  to  his 
relief  he  perceived  that  he  had  greatly  distanced  most 
of  the  Indians,  though  one  stout  savage,  with  a  javelin 
in  his  hand,  was  within  a  hundred  yards  of  him. 

Hope  reanimated  him.  Regardless  of  lacerated 
feet  and  blood,  he  pressed  forward  with  renovated 
vigor  until  he  arrived  within  about  a  mile  of  the  river, 
when  he  found  that  his  pursuer  was  gaining  rapidly 
upon  him.  He  could  hear  his  breathing  and  the 
sound  of  his  footsteps,  and  expected  every  moment 
to  feel  the  sharp  javelin  piercing  his  back. 

In  his  desperation  he  suddenly  stopped,  turned 
round  and  stretching  out  both  of  his  arms,  rushed,  in 
his  utter  defencelessness,  upon  the  armed  warrior. 
The  savage,  startled  by  this  unexpected  movement 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


180 

and  by  the  bloody  appearance  of  his  \ictim,  stumbled 
and  fell,  breaking  his  spear  as  he  attempted  to  throw 
it.  Colter  instantly  snatched  up  the  pointed  part,  and 
pinned  his  foe,  quivering  with  convulsions  to  the  earth. 

Again  he  plunged  forward  on  the  race  for  life. 
The  Indians,  as  they  came  up,  stopped  for  a  moment 
around  the  body  of  their  slain  comrade,  and  then, 
with  hideous  yells,  resumed  the  pursuit.  The  stream 
was  fringed  with  a  dense  growth  of  cotton-wood  trees. 
Colter  rushed  through  them,  thus  concealed  from 
observation,  and  seeing  near  by  a  large  raft  of  drift 
timber,  he  plunged  into  the  water,  dived  under  the 
raft  and  fortunately  succeeded  in  getting  his  head 
above  the  water  between  the  logs,  where  smaller 
wood  covered  him  to  the  depth  of  several  feet. 

Scarcely  had  he  attained  this  hiding  place  ere  the 
Indians  like  so  many  fiends  came  rushing  down  to 
the  river’s  bank.  They  searched  the  cotto  i-wood 
thickets,  and  traversed  the  raft  in  all  directions.  They 
frequently  came  so  near  the  hiding  place  of  Colter 
that  he  could  see  them  through  the  chinks.  He  was 
terribly  afraid  that  they  would  set  fire  to  the  raft 
Night  came  on,  and  the  Indians  disappeared.  Colter, 
In  the  darkness,  dived  from  under  the  raft,  swam 
down  the  river  to  a  considerable  distance,  and  then 
landed  and  traveled  all  night,  following  the  course  of 
the  stream. 


LIFE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 


iSl 

“Although  happy  in  having  escaped  from  th« 
Indians,  his  situation  was  still  dreadful.  He  was  com* 
pletely  naked  under  a  burning  sun.  The  soles  of  his 
feet  were  filled  with  the  thorns  of  the  prickly  pear* 
He  was  hungry  and  had  no  means  of  killing  game, 
although  he  saw  abundance  around  him  ;  and  was  at 
a  great  distance  from  the  nearest  settlement  After 
some  days  of  sore  travel,  during  which  he  had  no 
other  sustenance  than  the  root  known  by  naturalists 
under  the  name  of  psoralea  esculent a,  he  at  length 
arrived  in  safety  at  Lisa  Fort,  on  the  Big  Korn,  & 
tench  of  the  Yellow  Stone  river.” 


Captivity  and  Flight * 


fcfSTQtain  of  Tbotnas  Higgles  and  of  Mrs.  Purvey _ Affltirs  ti  Br>on,i® 

borough. — Continued  Alarms, — Need  of  Salt — Its  Manufacture-' 
Indian  B«heii8es.-*-Capture  of  Boone  and  twenty -seven  men. 
Dilemma  of  the  British  at  Detroit.— Blaokflsh  adopts  Qohmen 
Sflooue.—  Adoption  Ceremony. — Indian  Designs. — Baoape  of  Boo®*, 
—Attacks  the  Savages _ The  Fort  Threatened. 

The  following  well  authenticated  account  of  the 
adventures  of  a  ranger  is  so  graphically  described  in 
Brown's  History  of  Illinois ,  that  we  give  it  in  the 
words  of  the  writer  : 

“Thomas  Higgins,  a  native  Kentuckian,  was,  in 
the  summer  of  1814  stationed  in  a  block-house  eight 
miles  south  of  Greenville,  in  what  is  now  Bond 
County,  Illinois.  On  the  evening  of  the  30th  of 
August,  1S14,  a  small  party  of  Indians  having  been 
seen  prowling  about  the  station,  Lieutenant  Joumay, 
with  all  his  men,  twelve  only  in  number,  sallied  forth 
tiie  next  morning,  just  before  daybreak,  in  pursuit  oi 
them.  They  had  not  proceeded  far  on  the  border  of  thg* 
prairie,  before  they  were  in  an  ambuscade  of  seventy 
or  eighty  savages.  At  the  first  fire,  the  lieutenant 
%ad  three  of  his  men  were  killed.  Six  lied  to  the  fort 

U881 


* 


CAPTIVITY  AND  FLIGHT.  l8j 

under  cover  of  the  smoke,  for  the  morning  was  sultry, 
and  the  air  being  damp,  the  smoke  from  the  guns  hung 
like  a  cloud  over  the  scene.  But  Higgins  remained 
behind  to  have  ‘  one  more  pull  at  the  enemy/  and  to 
avenge  the  death  of  his  companions. 

M  He  sprang  behind  a  small  elm  scarcely  sufHcient 
to  protect  his  body,  when,  the  smoke  partly  rising, 
discovered  to  him  a  number  of  Indians,  upon  whom 
he  fired,  and  shot  down  the  foremost  one.  Concealed 
still  by  the  smoke,  Higgins  reloaded,  mounted  his 
horse,  and  turned  to  fly,  when  a  voice,  apparently 
from  the  grass,  hailed  him  with :  Tom,  you  won't 
leave  me,  will  you  ? 

u  He  turned  immediately  around,  and  seeing  a  fellow 
soldier  by  the  name  of  Burgess  lying  on  the  ground, 
wounded  and  gasping  for  breath,  replied,  1  No,  I  will 
not  leave  you  ;  come  along/  *  I  can’t  come/  said 
Burgess,  *  my  leg  is  all  smashed  to  pieces.* 

“  Higgins  dismounted,  and  taking  up  his  friend, 
whose  ankle  had  been  broken,  was  about  to  lift  him 
on  his  horse,  when  the  animal,  taking  fright,  darted 
off  in  an  instant  and  left  them  both  behind.  f  This 
is  too  bad/  said  Higgins,  *  but  don’t  fear.  You  hop 
off  on  your  three  legs  and  I  will  stay  behind  between 
you  and  the  Indians  and  keep  them  off.  Get  into 
the  tallest  grass  and  creep  as  near  the  ground  as  pos¬ 
sible/  Burgess  did  so  and  escaped. 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


u  The  smoke  which  had  hitherto  concealed  Higgins 
now  cleared  away,  and  he  resolved,  if  possible,  to 
retreat.  To  follow  the  track  of  Burgess  was  most 
expedient.  It  would,  however,  endanger  his  friend. 
He  determined,  therefore,  to  venture  boldly  forward 
and,  if  discovered,  to  secure  his  own  safety  by  the 
rapidity  of  his  flight.  On  leaving  a  small  thicket  in 
which  he  had  sought  refuge,  he  discovered  a  tall, 
portly  savage  near  by,  and  two  others  in  the  direction 
between  him  and  the  fort. 

u  He  started,  therefore,  for  a  little  rivulet  near,  but 
fovmd  one  of  his  limbs  failing  him,  it  having  been 
struck  by  a  ball  in  the  first  encounter,  of  which,  till 
now,  he  was  scarcely  conscious.  The  largest  Indian 
pressed  close  upon  him,  and  Higgins  turned  round 
two  or  three  times  in  order  to  fire.  The  Indian 
halted  and  danced  about  to  prevent  his  taking  aim. 
He  saw  that  it  was  unsafe  to  fire  at  random,  and  per¬ 
ceiving  two  others  approaching,  knew  that  he  must 
be  overpowered  unless  he  could  dispose  of  the  forward 
Indian  first  He  resolved,  therefore,  to  halt  and 
receive  his  fire. 

44  The  Indian  raised  his  rifle,  and  Higgins,  watching 
his  eye,  turned  suddenly  as  his  finger  pressed  ths 
trigger,  and  received  the  ball  in  his  thigh.  He  fell, 
but  rose  immediately  and  ran.  The  foremost  Indian, 
now  certain  of  his  prey,  loaded  again,  and  with  the 


CAPTIVITY  AND  FLIGHT, 


185 


other  two  pressed  on.  They  overtook  linn.  He  fell 
again,  and  as  he  rose  the  whole  three  fired,  and  he 
received  all  their  balls.  He  now  fell  and  rose  a  third 
time,  and  the  Indians,  throwing  away  their  guns, 
advanced  upon  him  with  spears  and  knives.  As  he 
presented  his  gun  at  one  or  another,  each  fell  back. 
At  last  the  largest  Indian,  supposing  his  gun  to  be 
empty,  from  his  fire  having  been  thus  reserved,  ad¬ 
vanced  boldly  to  the  charge.  Higgins  fired  and  the 
savage  fell. 

“He  had  now  four  bullets  in  his  body,  an  empty 
gun  in  his  hand,  two  Indians  unharmed  as  yet  before 
him,  and  a  whole  tribe  but  a  few  yards  distant  Any 
other  man  would  have  despaired.  Not  so  with  him. 
He  had  slain  the  most  dangerous  of  the  three,  and 
having  but  little  to  fear  from  the  others,  began  to 
load  his  rifle.  They  raised  a  savage  whoop  and 
rushed  to  the  encounter.  A  bloody  conflict  now  en¬ 
sued.  The  Indians  stabbed  him  in  several  placea 
Their  spears,  however,  were  but  thin  poles,  hastily 
prepared,  and  which  bent  whenever  they  struck  a  rib 
or  a  muscle.  The  wounds  they  made  were  not 
therefore  deep,  though  numerous. 

u  At  last  one  of  them  threw  his  tomahawk.  It  struck 
him  upon  the  cheek,  severed  his  ear,  laid  bare  his 
skull  to  the  back  of  his  head,  and  stretched  him  upon 
the  prairie.  The  Indians  again  rushed  on,  but  Hig* 


1 86 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


gins,  recovering  his  self-possession,  kept  them  of! 
with  his  feet  and  hands.  Grasping  at  length  one  of 
their  spears,  the  Indian,  in  attempting  to  pull  it  from 
him,  raised  Higgins  up,  who,  taking  his  ride,  dashed 
out  the  brains  of  the  nearest  savage.  In  doing  this, 
however,  it  broke,  the  barrel  only  remaining  in  his 
hand.  The  other  Indian,  who  had  heretofore  fought 
with  caution,  came  now  manfully  into  the  battle. 
His  character  as  a  warrior  was  in  jeopardy.  To  have 
fled  from  a  man  thus  wounded  and  disarmed,  or  to 
have  suffered  his  victim  to  escape,  would  have  tar¬ 
nished  his  fame  for  ever.  Uttering,  therefore,  a  ter¬ 
rific  yell,  he  rushed  on  and  attempted  to  stab  the 
exhausted  ranger.  But  the  latter  warded  off  his 
blow  with  one  hand  and  brandished  his  rifle  barrel 
with  the  other.  The  Indian  was  as  yet  unharmed, 
and,  under  existing  circumstances,  by  far  the  most 
powerful  man.  Higgins’  courage,  however,  was  un¬ 
exhausted  and  inexhaustible. 

“  The  savage  at  last  began  to  retreat  from  the  glare 
of  his  untamed  eye  to  the  spot  where  he  had  dropped 
his  rifle.  Higgins  knew  that  if  he  recovered  that,  hia 
own  case  was  desperate.  Throwing,  therefore,  his 
rifle  barrel  aside,  and  drawing  his  hunting  knife  he 
rushed  upon  his  foe.  A  desperate  strife  ensued — 
deep  gashes  were  inflicted  on  both  sides.  Higgins, 
fatigued  and  exhausted  by  the  loss  of  blood,  was  no 


CAPTIVITY  AND  FLIGHT. 


longer  a  match  for  the  savage.  The  latter  succeeded 
in  throwing  his  adversary  from  him,  and  went  imme¬ 
diately  in  pursuit  of  his  rifle.  Higgins  at  the  same 
time  rose  and  sought  for  the  gun  of  the  other  Indian. 
Both,  therefore,  bleeding  and  out  of  breath,  were  in 
search  of  arms  to  renew  the  combat. 

“The  smoke  had  now  passed  away,  and  a  laige 
number  of  Indians  were  in  view.  Nothing,  it  would 
seem,  could  now  save  the  gallant  ranger.  There  wa% 
however,  an  eye  to  pity  and  an  arm  to  save,  and  that 
arm  was  a  woman’s.  The  little  garrison  had  wit¬ 
nessed  the  whole  combat  It  consisted  of  but  six 
men  and  one  woman  ;  that  woman,  however,  was  a 
host — a  Mrs.  Pursley.  When  she  saw  Higgins  con¬ 
tending  single-handed  with  a  whole  tribe  of  savages, 
she  urged  the  rangers  to  attempt  his  rescue.  The 
rangers  objected,  as  the  Indians  were  ten  to  one. 
Mrs.  Pursley,  therefore,  snatched  a  ride  from  her 
husband’s  hand,  and  declaring  that  *  so  fine  a  fellow 
as  Tom  Higgins  should  not  be  lost  for  want  of  help/ 
mounted  a  horse  and  sallied  forth  to  his  rescue. 

“  The  men,  unwilling  to  be  outdone  by  a  woman, 
followed  at  full  gallop,  reached  the  spot  where 
Higgins  had  fainted  and  fell,  before  the  Indians 
came  up  and  while  the  savage  with  whom  he  had 
been  engaged  was  looking  for  his  rifle,  his  friends 
lifted  the  wounded  ranger  up  and  throwing  hi m 


1 88 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


across  a  horse  before  one  of  the  party,  reached  the 
fort  in  safety. 

“  Higgins  was  insensible  for  several  days,  and  his 
life  was  preserved  by  continued  care.  His  friends 
extracted  two  of  the  balls  from  his  thigh.  Two, 
however,  yet  remained,  one  of  which  gave  him  a  good 
deal  of  pain.  Hearing  afterwards  that  a  physician  had 
settled  within  a  day’s  ride  of  him,  he  determined  to  go 
and  see  him.  The  physician  asked  him  fifty  dollars 
for  the  operation.  This  Higgins  flatly  refused,  saying 
that  it  was  more  than  half  a  year’s  pension.  On 
reaching  home  he  found  that  the  exercise  of  riding 
had  made  the  ball  discernible  ;  he  requested  his  wife, 
therefore,  to  hand  him  his  razor.  With  her  assistance 
he  laid  open  his  thigh  until  the  edge  of  the  razor 
touched  the  bullet,  then,  inserting  his  two  thumbs 
into  the  gash,  ‘he  flirted  it  out/  as  he  used  to  say, 
‘  without  it  costing  him  a  cent.’ 

“  The  other  ball  yet  remained  It  gave  him,  how¬ 
ever,  but  little  pain,  and  he  carried  it  with  him  to  the 
grave.  Higgins  died  in  Fayette  County,  Illinois,  a 
few  years  ago.  He  was  the  most  perfect  specimen  of 
a  frontier  man  in  his  day,  and  was  once  assistant 
door-keeper  of  the  House  of  Representatives  in 
Illinois.  The  facts  above  stated  are  familiar  to  many 
to  whom  Higgins  was  personally  known.”  # 


*  Brawn's  Illinois. 


CAPTIVITY  AND  FLIGHT. 


This  narrative  gives  one  a  very  vivid  idea  of  the 
nature  of  the  conflict  in  which  Boone,  through  so 
many  years  of  his  life,  was  engaged.  The  little  fort, 
whose  feeble  garrison  he  commanded,  was  liable  at 
any  time  to  be  assailed  by  overwhelming  numbers. 

Daniel  Boone,  during  his  occupancy  of  the  fort  at 
Boonesborough,  manifested  the  most  constant  vigi¬ 
lance  to  guard  against  surprise.  He  was  however 
struggling  against  a  foe  whose  cunning  and  strategems 
were  such,  as  not  to  allow  him  an  hour  of  quiet.  One 
morning  two  men  laboring  in  the  field  were  shot  at 
by  the  Indians.  Not  being  hit,  they  ran  for  the  fort. 
They  were  pursued  by  the  savages,  and  one  was 
tomahawked  and  scalped  within  a  few  hundred  feet 
of  the  gate.  Boone  hearing  the  alarm,  inconsiderately 
rushed  out  with  ten  men  upon  the  miscreants.  They 
fled  before  him  hotly  pursued.  In  the  eagerness  of 
the  chase,  Boone  had  not  counted  the  number  of  his 
foes.  Some  of  them  rushing  from  their  ambush  cut 
off  his  retreat.  At  one  discharge,  six  of  his  men  fell 
wounded.  Boone’s  leg  was  shattered  by  a  ball. 

As  he  fell  to  the  ground,  the  tomahawk  of  a  savage 
was  over  his  head.  Simon  Kenton,  who  was  one  of 
Boone’s  party,  with  sure  aim  pierced  the  heart  of  the 
savage  with  a  rifle  bullet  and  he  fell  dead.  Reinforce- 
ments  rushed  from  the  fort,  and  fortunately  succeeded 
in  rescuing  the  adventurous  party,  the  wounded  and 


190 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


all.  It  is  said  of  Boone,  that  though  a  silent  man  and 
not  given  to  compliments,  he  manifested  very  deep 
gratitude  to  his  friend  Kenton  for  saving  his  life. 
The  very  peculiar  character  of  Boone  is  vividly  pre¬ 
sented  in  the  following  sketch,  from  the  graphic  pen 
of  Mr.  Peck  : 

“  As  dangers  thickened  and  appearances  grew 
more  alarming,  as  scouts  came  in  with  rumors  of 
Indians  seen  here  and  there,  and  as  the  hardy  and 
bold  woodsmen  sat  around  their  camp-fires  with  the 
loaded  rifle  at  hand,  rehearsing  for  the  twentieth  time 
the  tales  of  noble  daring,  or  the  hair-breadth  escapes, 
Boone  would  sit  silent,  apparently  not  heeding  the 
conversation,  employed  in  repairing  the  rents  in  his 
hunting  shirt  and  leggins,  moulding  bullets  or  cleaning 
his  rifle.  Yet  the  eyes  of  the  garrison  were  upon  him. 
Concerning  ‘  Indian  signs  ’  he  was  an  oracle. 

“  Sometimes  with  one  or  two  trusty  companions, 
but  more  frequently  alone,  as  night  closed  in,  he 
would  steal  noiselessly  away  into  the  woods,  torecon- 
noiter  the  surrounding  wilderness.  And  in  the  day 
time,  stealthily  would  he  creep  along  with  his  trusty 
rifle  resting  on  his  arm,  ready  for  the  least  sign  of 
danger,  his  keen,  piercing  eyes  glancing  into  every 
thicket  and  canetrake,  or  watch  intently  for  ‘signs' 
of  the  wiley  enemy.  Accustomed  to  range  the 
country  as  a  hunter  and  a  scout,  he  would  frequently 


CAPTIVITY  AND  FLIGHT. 


W 


meet  the  approaching  travelers  on  the  road  and  pilot 
them  into  the  settlement,  while  his  rifle  supplied  them 
with  provisions.  He  was  ever  more  ready  to  aid 
the  community,  or  to  engage  in  public  services,  than 
to  attend  to  his  private  interests.” 

The  want  of  salt  had  become  one  of  the  greatest 
privations  of  the  garrison.  It  was  an  article  essential 
to  comfort  and  health,  and  yet,  in  the  warfare  then 
existing,  was  almost  impossible  of  attainment. 
Upon  the  Sicking  river,  nearly  a  hundred  miles  north 
from  Boonesborough,  there  were  valuable  springs 
richly  impregnated  with  salt.  Animals  from  all 
quarters  frequented  these  springs,  licking  the  satur¬ 
ated  clay  around  them.  Hence  the  name  of  Salt 
Licks.  Evaporating  the  water  by  boiling  in  large 
kettles,  salt  of  a  good  quality  was  easily  obtained. 
The  necessities  of  the  garrison  became  so  great,  that 
Colonel  Boone  took  a  well-armed  party  of  thirty 
men,  and  threading  their  way  through  the  wilder- 
demess,  at  length  reached  the  springs  unassailed.  It 
was  one  of  the  boldest  of  adventures.  It  was 
certain  that  the  watchful  Indians  would  learn  that  a 
party  had  left  the  cover  of  the  fort,  and  would  fall 
upon  them  with  great  ferocity. 

Colonel  Boone,  who  desired  to  obtain  salt  for  all  the 
garrisons,  deemed  it  consequently  necessary  to  work 
night  and  day  with  the  greatest  possible  diligence, 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


They  could  never  venture  to  move  a  step  beyond 
the  grasp  of  their  rides.  For  nearly  four  weeks  the 
salt-makers  pursued  their  work  unassailed.  The  news 
of  so  strong  and  well  armed  a  party  having  left  the 
fort,  reached  the  ears  of  the  Indians.  They  had  a 
very  great  dread  of  Boone,  and  knew  very  well  he 
would  not  be  found  sleeping  or  unprotected,  at  the 
springs.  They  shrewdly  inferred  that  the  departure 
of  so  many  men  must  greatly  weaken  the  garrison, 
and  that  they  could  never  hope  for  a  more  favorable 
opportunity  to  attack  Boonesborough. 

This  formidable  fortress  was  the  great  object  of 
their  dread.  They  thought  that  if  they  could  lay  it  in 
ashes,  making  it  the  funeral  pyre  of  all  its  inmates, 
the  weaker  forts  would  be  immediately  abandoned  by 
their  garrisons  in  despair,  or  could  easily  be  captured. 
An  expedition  was  formed,  consisting  of  more  than 
a  hundred  Indian  warriors,  and  accompanied  it  is 
said  by  two  Frenchmen.  Boone  had  sent  three  men 
back  to  the  garrison,  loaded  with  salt,  and  to  convey 
tidi?:gs  of  the  good  condition  of  the  party  at  the 
springs. 

On  the  morning  of  the  seventh  of  February,  Bcone, 
who  was  unequalled  in  his  skill  as  a  hunter,  and  also 
in  the  sagacity  by  which  he  could  avoid  the  Indians, 
was  out  in  search  of  game  as  food  for  the  party. 
Emboldened  by  the  absence  of  all  signs  of  the  vicinity 


CAPTIVITY  AND  FLIGHT.  X9J 

of  the  Indians,  he  had  wandered  some  distance  from 
the  springs,  where  he  encountered  this  band  of 
warriors,  attended  by  the  two  Frenchmen,  on  the 
march  for  the  assault  on  Boonesborough.  Though 
exceedingly  fleet  of  foot,  his  attempt  to  escape  was 
in  vain.  The  young  Indian  runners  overtook  and 
captured  him. 

The  Indians  seem  to  have  had  great  respect  for 
Boone.  Even  with  them  he  had  acquired  the  reputa¬ 
tion  of  being  a  just  and  humane  man,  while  his 
extraordinary  abilities,  both  as  a  hunter  and  a  warrior, 
had  won  their  admiration.  Boone  was  not  heading  a 
war  party  to  assail  them.  He  had  not  robbed  them 
of  any  of  their  horses.  They  were  therefore  not 
exasperated  against  him  personally.  It  is  also  not 
improbable  that  the  Frenchmen  who  were  with  them 
had  influenced  therp  not  to  treat  their  prisoner  with 
barbarity. 

Boone,  whose  spirits  seemed  never  to  be  perturbed, 
yielded  so  gracefully  to  his  captors  as  to  awaken  in 
their  bosoms  some  emotions  of  kindness.  They  prom¬ 
ised  that  if  the  party  at  the  springs  would  yield  with¬ 
out  resistance — which  resistance,  though  unavailing, 
they  knew  would  cost  them  the  lives  of  many  of  their 
warriors — the  lives  of  the  captives  should  be  safe,  and 
they  should  not  be  exposed  to  any  inhuman  treatment. 

Boone  was  much  perplexed.  Had  he  been  with  his 

a 7 


m 


DANIEL  BOONE, 


men,  he  would  have  fought  to  the  last  extremity,  and 
his  presence  not  improbably  might  have  inspirited 
them,  even  to  a  successful  defence.  But  deprived  o i 
their  leader,  taken  entirely  by  surprise,  and  out* 
numbered  three  or  four  to  one,  their  massacre  was 
certain.  And  it  was  also  certain  that  the  Indians, 
exasperated  by  the  loss  which  they  would  have  en¬ 
countered,  would  put  every  prisoner  to  death,  through 
all  the  horrors  of  fiend-like  torture. 

Under  these  circumstances,  Colonel  Boone  very 
wisely  decided  upon  surrender.  It  would  have  been 
very  impolitic  and  cruel  to  do  otherwise.  He  having 
thus  given  his  word,  the  Indians  placed  implicit 
confidence  in  it.  They  were  also  perfectly  faithful  to 
their  own  promises.  Boone  was  allowed  to  approach 
his  men,  and  represent  the  necessity  of  a  surrender, 
which  was  immediately  effected.  The  Indians  were  so 
elated  by  this  great  victory,  and  were  so  well  satisfied 
with  the  result  of  the  campaign,  that  instead  of 
continuing  their  march  for  the  attack  of  Boones- 
borough,  they  returned  with  their  illustrious  captive 
and  his  twenty-seven  companions  to  their  head¬ 
quarters  on  the  Little  Miami  River. 

The  modest,  unaffected  account  which  Boone 
himself  gives  of  these  transactions,  is  worthy  of  record 
here: 

"  On  the  seventh,  of  February,  as  I  was  hunting  to 


CAPTIVITY  AND  FLIGHT. 


195 


procure  meat  for  the  company,  I  met  a  party  of  one 
hundred  and  two  Indians,  and  two  Frenchmen,  on 
dieir  march  against  Boonesborough  ;  that  place  being 
particularly  the  object  of  the  enemy.  They  pursued 
and  took  me,  and  brought  me  the  eighth  day  to  the 
Licks,  where  twenty-seven  of  my  party  were,  three  of 
them  having  previously  returned  home  with  the  salt 
I,  knowing  it  was  impossible  for  them  to  escape, 
capitulated  with  the  enemy,  and  at  a  distance,  in  their 
view,  gave  notice  to  my  men  of  their  situation  with 
orders  not  to  resist,  but  surrender  themselves  captives. 

“  The  generous  usage  the  Indians  had  promised 
before  in  my  capitulation,  was  afterwards  fully 
complied  with,  and  we  proceeded  with  them  as 
prisoners  to  Old  Chilicothe,  the  principal  Indian  town 
on  Little  Miami,  where  we  arrived,  after  an  uncomfort¬ 
able  journey  in  very  severe  weather,  on  the  eighteenth 
of  February,  and  received  as  good  treatment  as 
prisoners  could  expect  from  savages.  On  the  tenth 
of  March  following,  I  and  ten  of  my  men  were 
conducted  by  forty  Indians  to  Detroit,  where  we 
arrived  the  thirtieth  day,  and  were  treated  by 
Governor  Hamilton,  the  British  commander  at  that 
post,  with  great  humanity. 

“  During  our  travels,  the  Indians  entertained  me 
well,  and  their  affection  for  me  was  so  great,  that  they 
utterly  refused  to  leave  me  there  with  the  others* 


ig6 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


although  the  Governor  offered  them  one  hundred 
pounds  sterling  for  me,  on  purpose  to  give  me  a 
parole  to  go  home.  Several  English  gentlemen  there, 
being  sensible  of  my  adverse  fortune,  and  touched 
with  human  sympathy,  generously  offered  a  friendly 
supply  for  my  wants,  which  I  refused  with  many 
thanks  for  their  kindness,  adding  that  I  never 
expected  it  would  be  in  my  power  to  recompense  such 
unmerited  generosity.” 

The  British  officers  in  Detroit  could  not  venture  to 
interfere  in  behalf  of  Colonel  Boone,  in  any  way  which 
would  displease  their  savage  allies,  for  they  relied 
much  upon  them  in  their  warfare  against  the  colonies. 

There  was  much  in  the  character  of  our  hero  to  win 
the  affection  of  the  savages.  His  silent,  unboastful 
courage  they  admired.  He  was  more  than  their 
equal  in  his  skill  in  traversing  the  pathless  forest 
His  prowess  as  a  hunter  they  fully  appreciated.  It 
was  their  hope  that  he  would  consent  to  be  incorporated 
•n  their  tribe,  and  they  would  gladly  have  accepted 
him  as  one  of  their  chiefs.  The  savages  had  almost 
universally  sufficient  intelligence  to  appreciate  the 
¥ast  superiority  of  the  white  man. 

The  Indians  spent  ten  days  at  Detroit,  and  surren¬ 
dered,  for  a  ransom,  all  their  captives  to  the  English, 
excepting  Colonel  Boone.  Him  they  took  back  on  a 
long  and  fatiguing  journey  to  Old  Chilicothe  on  the 


CAPTIVITY  AND  FLIGHT.  197 

Little  Miami.  The  country  they  traversed,  now  m 
full  of  wealth,  activity,  and  all  the  resources  of 
individual  and  social  happiness,  was  then  a  v&st 
wilderness,  silent  and  lonely.  Still  in  its  solitude  it 
was  very  beautiful,  embellished  with  fertile  plains, 
magnificent  groves,  and  crystal  streams.  At  Chilicothe, 
Colonel  Boone  was  formally  adopted,  according  to  an 
Indian  custom,  into  the  family  of  Blackfish,  one  of 
the  distinguished  chiefs  of  the  Shawanese  tribe. 

**  At  Chilicothe/’  writes  Boone,  u  1  spent  my  time 
as  comfortably  as  1  could  expect.  I  was  adopted 
according  to  their  custom,  into  a  family  where  I 
became  a  son,  and  had  a  great  share  in  the  affection 
of  my  new  parents,  brothers,  sisters  and  friends.  I 
was  exceedingly  familiar  and  friendly  with  them* 
always  appearing  as  cheerful  and  satisfied  as  possible, 
and  they  put  great  confidence  in  me.  I  often  went 
hunting  with  them,  and  frequently  gained  their  ap¬ 
plause  for  my  activity,  at  our  shooting  matches.  1 
was  careful  not  to  excel  them  when  shooting,  for  no 
people  are  more  envious  than  they  in  their  sport  I 
could  observe  in  their  countenances  and  gestures,  the 
greatest  expressions  of  joy  when  they  exceeded  me, 
and  when  the  reverse  happened,  of  envy.  The 
Shawanese  king  took  great  notice  of  me,  and  treated 
me  with  profound  respect  and  entire  friendship,  often 
-trusting  me  to  hunt  at  my  liberty.  I  frequently 


198 


DANIEL  BOONE, 


returned  with  the  spoils  of  the  woods  and  as  often 
presented  some  of  what  I  had  taken  to  him,  expres¬ 
sive  of  my  duty  to  my  sovereign.  My  food  and 
lodging  were  in  common  with  them.  Not  so  good, 
indeed,  as  I  could  desire,  but  necessity  makes  every¬ 
thing  acceptable.” 

The  spirit  manifested  by  Boone  under  these  cir¬ 
cumstances,  when  he  was  apparently  a  hopeless  pri¬ 
soner  in  the  hands  of  the  Indians,  was  not  influenced 
by  artifice  alone.  He  had  real  sympathy  for  the 
savages,  being  fully  conscious  of  the  wrongs  which 
were  often  inflicted  upon  them,  and  which  goaded 
their  untamed  natures  to  fearful  barbarities.  He  had 
always  treated  them  not  only  kindly,  but  with  frater¬ 
nal  respect.  The  generous  treatment  he  had  received 
in  return  won  his  regards.  His  peculiarly  placid 
nature  was  not  easily  disturbed  by  any  reverses.  Let 
what  would  happen,  he  never  allowed  himself  to  com¬ 
plain  or  to  worry.  Thus  making  the  best  of  circum¬ 
stances,  he  always  looked  upon  the  brightest  side  of 
things,  and  was  reasonably  happy,  even  in  this  direful 
captivity.  Still  he  could  not  forget  his  home,  and 
was  continually  on  the  alert  to  avail  himself  of  what¬ 
ever  opportunity  might  be  presented  to  escape  and 
return  to  his  friends. 

The  ceremony  of  adoption  was  pretty  severe  and 
painful.  All  the  hair  of  the  head  was  plucked  out 


CAPTIVITY  AND  FLIGHT. 


199 


by  a  tedious  operation,  leaving  simply  a  tuft  three  or 
four  inches  in  diameter  on  the  crown.  This  was 
called  the  scalp-lock.  The  hair  was  here  allowed  to 
grow  long,  and  was  dressed  with  ribbons  and  feathera 
It  was  to  an  individual  warrior  what  the  banner  is  to 
an  army.  The  victor  tore  it  from  the  skull  as  his 
trophy.  Having  thus  denuded  the  head  and  dressed 
the  scalp-lock,  the  candidate  was  taken  to  the  river 
and  very  thoroughly  scrubbed,  that  all  the  white 
blood  might  be  washed  out  of  him.  His  face  was 
painted  in  the  most  approved  style  of  Indian  taste, 
when  he  was  led  to  the  council  lodge  and  addressed 
by  the  chief  in  a  long  and  formal  speech,  in  which  he 
expatiates  upon  the  honor  conferred  upon  the  adopted 
son,  and  upon  the  corresponding  duties  expected  of 
him. 

Colonel  Boone  having  passed  through  this  trans¬ 
formation,  with  his  Indian  dress  and  his  painted 
cheeks,  his  tufted  scalp-lock  and  his  whole  person 
embrowned  by  constant  exposure  to  the  open  air, 
could  scarcely  be  distinguished  from  any  of  his  Indian 
associates.  His  wary  captors  however,  notwithstand 
ing  all  the  kindness  with  which  they  treated  him, 
seemed  to  be  conscious  that  it  must  be  his  desire  to 
return  to  his  friends.  They  therefore  habitually,  but 
without  a  remark  suggestive  of  any  suspicions,  adopted 
precautions  to  prevent  his  escape  So  skill  ul  a  hun* 


200 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


ter  as  Boone  could,  with  his  rifle  and  a  supply  of 
ammunition,  traverse  the  solitary  expanse  around  for 
almost  any  length  of  time,  living  in  abundance.  But 
deprived  of  his  rifle  or  of  ammunition,  he  would  soon 
almost  inevitably  perish  of  starvation.  The  Indians 
were  therefore  very  careful  not  to  allow  him  to  accu¬ 
mulate  any  ammunition,  which  was  so  essential  to 
sustain  him  in  a  journey  through  the  wilderness. 

Though  Boone  was  often  allowed  to  go  out  alone 
to  hunt,  they  always  counted  his  balls  and  the 
charges  of  powder.  Thus  they  could  judge  whether 
he  had  concealed  any  ammunition  to  aid  him,  should 
he  attempt  to  escape.  He  however,  with  equal 
sagacity,  cut  the  bails  in  halves,  and  used  very  small 
charges  of  powder.  Thus  he  secretly  laid  aside  quite 
a  little  store  of  ammunition.  As  ever  undismayed 
by  misfortune,  he  serenely  gave  the  energies  of  his 
mind  to  the  careful  survey  of  the  country  around. 

“  During  the  time  that  I  hunted  for  them,”  he 
writes,  “  I  found  the  land  for  a  great  extent  about 
this  river  to  exceed  the  soil  of  Kentucky  if  possible, 
and  remarkably  well  watered.” 

Upon  one  of  the  branches  of  the  Scioto  river, 
which  stream  runs  about  sixty  miles  east  of  the  Litti® 
Miami,  there  were  some  salt  springs.  Early  in  June 
a  party  of  the  Indians  set  out  for  these  44  Licks  ”  to 
make  salt.  They  took  Boone  with  them.  The  In- 


CAPTIVITY  AND  FLIGHT. 


201 


dm  ns  were  quite  averse  to  anything  like  hard  work. 
Boone  not  only  understood  the  process  of  manufao* 
ture  perfectly,  but  was  always  quietly  and  energeti¬ 
cally  devoted  to  whatever  he  undertook.  The  Indians, 
inspired  by  the  double  motive  of  the  desire  to  obtain 
as  much  salt  as  possible,  and  to  hold  securely  the 
prisoner,  whom  they  so  highly  valued,  kept  him  so 
busy  at  the  kettles  as  to  give  him  no  opportunity  to 
escape. 

After  an  absence  of  about  a  fortnight,  they  returned 
with  a  good  supply  of  salt  to  the  Little  Miami. 
Here  Boone  was  quite  alarmed  to  find  that  during 
his  absence  the  chiefs  had  been  marshaling  a  band  of 
four  hundred  and  fifty  of  their  bravest  warriors  to 
attack  Boonesborough.  In  that  fort  were  his  wife  and 
his  children.  Its  capture  would  probably  insure  their 
slaughter.  He  was  aware  that  the  fort  was  not  suffi¬ 
ciently  guarded  by  its  present  inmates,  and  that, 
unapprehensive  of  impending  danger,  they  were  liable 
to  be  taken  entirely  by  surprise.  Boone  was  suffi¬ 
ciently  acquainted  with  the  Shawanese  dialect  to 
understand  every  word  they  said,  while  he  very 
sagaciously  had  assumed,  from  the  moment  of  his 
captivity,  that  he  was  entirely  ignorant  of  their  lan¬ 
guage. 

Boone’s  anxiety  was  very  great.  He  was  com¬ 
pelled  to  assume  a  smiling  face  as  he  attended  theh 


202 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


war  dances.  Apparently  unmoved,  he  listened  to  the 
details  of  their  plans  for  the  surprise  of  the  fort 
Indeed,  to  disarm  suspicion  and  to  convince  them 
that  he  had  truly  become  one  of  their  number,  he 
cooperated  in  giving  efficiency  to  their  hostile  designs 
against  all  he  held  most  dear  in  the  world. 

It  had  now  become  a  matter  of  infinite  moment 
that  he  should  immediately  escape  and  carry  to  his 
friends  in  the  fort  the  tidings  of  their  peril.  But  the 
slightest  unwary  movement  would  have  led  the  sus¬ 
picious  Indians  so  to  redouble  their  vigilance  as  to 
render  escape  utterly  impossible.  So  skilfully  did 
he  conceal  the  emotions  which  agitated  him,  and  so 
successfully  did  he  feign  entire  contentment  with  his 
lot,  that  his  captors,  all  absorbed  in  the  enterprise  in 
which  they  were  engaged,  remitted  their  ordinary 
vigilance. 

On  the  morning  of  the  sixteenth  of  June,  Boone 
rose  very  early  to  take  his  usual  hunt.  With  his 
secreted  ammunition,  and  the  amount  allowed  him 
by  the  Indians  for  the  day,  he  hoped  to  be 
able  to  save  himself  from  starvation,  during  his 
flight  of  five  days  through  the  pathless  wilderness. 
There  was  a  distance  of  one  hundred  and  sixty  miles 
between  Old  Chilicothe  and  Boonesborough.  The 
moment  his  flight  should  be  suspected,  four  hundred 
and  fifty  Indian  warriors,  breathing  vengeance*  and 


CAPTIVITY  AND  FLIGHT. 


203 


in  perfect  preparation  for  the  pursuit,  would  be  on 
his  track.  His  capture  would  almost  certainly  result 
in  his  death  by  the  most  cruel  tortures  ;  for  the 
infuriated  Indians  would  wreak  upon  him  all  their 
vengeance 

It  is  however  not  probable  that  this  silent,  pensive 
man  allowed  these  thoughts  seriously  to  disturb  his 
equanimity.  An  instinctive  trust  in  God  seemed  to 
inspire  him.  He  was  forty-three  years  of  age.  In 
the  knowledge  of  wood-craft,  and  in  powers  of  endur¬ 
ance,  no  Indian  surpassed  him.  Though  he  would  be 
pursued  by  sagacious  and  veteran  warriors  and  by 
young  Indian  braves,  a  pack  of  four  hundred  and 
fifty  savages  following  with  keener  scent  than  that 
of  the  bloodhound,  one  poor  victim,  yet  undismayed, 
he  entered  upon  the  appalling  enterprise.  The 
history  of  the  world  perhaps  presents  but  few  feats 
so  difficult,  and  yet  so  successfully  performed.  And 
yet  the  only  record  which  this  modest  man  makes,  in 
his  autobiography,  of  this  wonderful  adventure  is  as 
follows  : 

“  On  the  sixteenth,  before  sunrise,  I  departed  in 
the  most  secret  manner,  and  arrived  at  Boones- 
borough  on  the  twentieth,  after  a  journey  of  one 
hundred  and  sixty  miles,  during  which  I  had  but  one 
meal.” 

It  was  necessaiy,  as  soon  as  Boone  got  out  of  sigbl 


204 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


of  the  village,  to  fly  with  the  utmost  speed,  to  put  as 
great  a  distance  as  possible  between  himself  and  his 
pursuers,  before  they  should  suspect  his  attempt  at 
escape.  He  subsequently  learned  that  as  soon  as  the 
Indians  apprehended  that  he  had  actually  fled,  there 
was  the  most  intense  commotion  in  their  camp,  and 
immediately  a  large  number  of  their  fleetest  runners 
and  keenest  hunters  were  put  upon  his  trail.  He 
dared  not  fire  a  gun.  Had  he  killed  any  game  he 
could  not  have  ventured  to  kindle  a  fire  to  cook  it. 
He  had  secretly  provided  himself  with  a  few  cuts  of 
dried  venison  with  which  he  could  appease  his  hunger 
as  he  pressed  forward  by  day  and  by  night,  scarcely 
allowing  himself  one  moment  for  rest  or  sleep.  His 
route  lay  through  forests  and  swamps,  and  across 
many  streams  swollen  by  recent  rains. 

At  length  he  reached  the  Ohio  river.  Its  current 
was  swift  and  turbid,  rolling  in  a  majestic  flood  half  a 
mile  in  width,  filling  the  bed  of  the  stream  with 
almost  fathomless  waters  from  shore  to  shore.  Ex¬ 
perienced  as  Colonel  Boone  was  in  wood-craft,  he  wa? 
not  a  skilful  swimmer.  The  thought  of  how  he 
should  cross  the  Ohio  had  caused  him  much  anxiety 
Upon  reaching  its  banks  he  fortunately — may  we  not 
say  providentially — found  an  old  canoe  which  had 
drifted  among  the  bushes  upon  the  shore.  There  was 
%  large  hole  at  one  end,  and  it  was  nearly  filled  with 


CAPTIVITY  AND  PLIGHT. 


water,  lie  succeeded  in  bailing  out  the  water  and 
plugging  up  the  hole,  and  crossed  the  river  in  safety. 
Then  for  the  first  time  he  so  far  indulged  in  a  feeling 
#*f  security  as  to  venture  to  shoot  a  turkey,  and  kind* 
ling  a  fire  he  feasted  abundantly  upon  the  rich  repast 
It  was  the  only  meal  in  which  he  indulged  during 
his  flight  of  five  days. 

On  his  arrival  at  Boonesborough,  he  was  welcomed 
as  one  risen  from  the  grave.  Much  to  his  disappoint¬ 
ment  he  found  that  his  wife  with  his  children,  des¬ 
pairing  of  ever  seeing  him  again,  had  left  the  fort 
and  returned  to  the  house  of  her  father,  in  North 
Carolina.  She  supposed  that  the  Indians  had  killed 
him.  “  Oppressed,”  writes  Boone,  “  with  the  distresses 
of  the  country  and  bereaved  of  me,  her  only  happi¬ 
ness,  she  had  undertaken  her  long  and  perilous  jour¬ 
ney  through  the  wilderness.”  It  is  gratifying  to 
record  that  she  reached  her  friends  in  safety. 

Boone  found  the  fort  as  he  had  apprehended,  in  a 
bad  state  of  defence.  His  presence,  his  military 
skill,  and  the  intelligence  he  brought,  immediately 
inspired  every  man  to  the  intensest  exertion.  The 
gates  were  strengthened,  new  bastions  were  formed, 
and  provisions  were  laid  in,  to  stand  a  siege.  Every¬ 
thing  was  done  which  could  be  done  to  repel  an 
assault  from  they  knew  not  how  many  savages,  aided 
by  British  leaders,  for  the  band  from  old  Chilicothe, 

13 


20  6 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


was  to  be  joined  by  warriors  from  several  otfoet 
tribes.  In  ten  days,  Boonesborough  was  ready  fof 
the  onset.  These  arduous  labors  being  completed, 
Boone  heroically  resolved  to  strike  consternation  into 
the  Indians,  by  showing  them  that  he  was  prepared 
for  aggressive  as  well  as  defensive  warfare,  and 
that  they  must  leave  behind  them  warriors  for  the 
protection  of  their  own  villages. 

Selecting  a  small  party  of  but  nineteen  men,  about 
the  first  of  August  he  emerged  from  Boonesborough, 
marched  boldly  to  the  Ohio,  crossed  the  river,  entered 
the  valley  of  the  Scioto,  and  was  within  four  miles  of 
an  Indian  town,  Paint  Creek,  which  he  intended  to 
destroy,  when  he  chanced  to  encounter  a  band  of 
thirty  savages  painted,  thoroughly  armed  and  on 
the  war  path,  to  join  the  band  advancing  from  Old 
Chilicothe.  The  Indians  were  attacked  with  such 
vehemence  by  Boone,  that  they  fled  in  consternation, 
leaving  behind  them  three  horses  and  all  their 
baggage.  The  savages  also  lost  one  killed  and  two 
wounded,  while  they  inflicted  no  loss  whatever  upon 
the  white  men. 

Boone  sent  forward  some  swift  runners  as  spies,  and 
they  speedily  returned  with  the  report  that  the  Indians 
in  a  panic  had  entirely  abandoned  Paint  Creek. 
Aware  that  the  warriors  would  rush  to  join  the  four 
hundred  and  fifty  from  Old  Chilicothe,  and  that  they 


Captivity  and  flight.  20? 

might  cut  off  his  retreat,  or  reach  Boonesborougli 
before  his  return,  he  immediately  commenced  a  rapid 
movement  back  to  the  fort.  Every  man  would  be 
iseeded  there  for  an  obstinate  defence.  This  fora}? 
had  extended  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  the 
fort.  It  greatly  alarmed  the  Indians.  It  emboldened 
the  hearts  of  the  garrison,  and  gave  them  intelligence 
of  the  approach  of  their  foes.  After  an  absence  of 
but  seven  days,  Boone  with  his  heroic  little  band 
quite  triumphantly  re-entered  the  fort 

The  approach  of  the  foe  is  described  in  the  following 
terms  by  Boone : 

“  On  the  eighth  of  August,  the  Indian  army  arrived, 
being  four  hundred  and  forty-four  in  number,  com¬ 
manded  by  Captain  Duquesne,  eleven  other  French¬ 
men  and  some  of  their  own  chiefs,  and  marched  up 
in  view  of  our  fort,  with  British  and  French  colors 
flying.  And  having  sent  a  summons  to  me  in  His 
Britannic  Majesty’s  name  to  surrender  the  fort,  I 
requested  two  days’  consideration  which  was  granted. 
It  was  now  a  critical  period  with  us.  We  were  a 
small  number  in  the  garrison ;  a  powerful  army  before 
our  walls,  whose  appearance  proclaimed  inevitable 
death ;  fearfully  painted  and  marking  their  foot¬ 
steps  with  desolation.  Death  was  preferable  to  cap¬ 
tivity  ;  and  if  taken  by  storm,  we  must  inevitably  be 
devoted  to  destruction. 


20B 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


*«  jn  situation  we  concluded  to  maintain  our 
garrison  if  possible.  We  immediately  proceeded  to 
collect  what  we  could  of  our  horses  and  other  cattle, 
and  bring  them  through  the  posterns  into  the  fort; 
and  in  the  evening  of  the  ninth,  I  returned  the 
answer  ‘  that  we  were  determined  to  defend  our  fort 
while  a  man  was  living/ 

** *  Now,  *  said  I  to  their  commander  who  stood 
attentively  hearing  my  sentiments,  '  we  laugh  at 
your  formidable  preparations,  but  thank  you  for 
giving  us  notice,  and  time  for  our  defence.  Your 
efforts  will  not  prevail,  for  our  gates  shall  forever 
deny  you  admitance/ 

“  Whether  this  answer  affected  their  courage  at 
not,  I  cannot  tell,  but  contrary  to  our  expectations, 
they  formed  a  scheme  to  deceive  us,  declaring  it  was 
their  orders  from  Governor  Hamilton  to  take  us 
captives,  and  not  to  destroy  us ;  but  if  nine  of  us  would 
come  out  and  treat  with  them,  they  would  imme¬ 
diately  withdraw  their  forces  from  our  walls,  and 
return  home  peaceably.  This  sounded  grateful  is 
mr  ears,  and  we  agreed  to  the  proposal.” 


CHAPTER  XX. 


Victories  and  Defeats* 


Situation  of  the  Fort. — Indian  Treachery. — Bom bardm  e nt. — Boom* 
gtwtg  to  North  Carolina. — New  Trials. — Boone  BobbedL— H® 

Returns  to  Kentucky _ Massacre  of  Col.  Rogers. — Adventure  of 

Col.  Bowman. — New  Attaok  by  the  British  and  Indians.— Re¬ 
taliatory  Measures. — Wonderful  Exploit. 

There  were  but  fifty  men  in  the  garrison  at  Boones- 
borough.  They  were  assailed  by  a  body  of  more 
than  ten  to  one  of  the  bravest  Indian  warriors,  under 
the  command  of  an  officer  in  the  British  army.  The 
boldest  in  the  fort  felt  that  their  situation  was  almost 
desperate.  The  ferocity  of  the  Indian,  and  the  intel¬ 
ligence  of  the  white  man,  were  combined  against 
them.  They  knew  that  the  British  commander, 
however  humane  he  might  be,  would  have  no  power, 
should  the  fort  be  taken  by  storm,  to  save  them  from 
death  by  the  most  horrible  tortures. 

General  Duquesne  was  acting  under  instructions 
from  Governor  Hamilton,  the  British  officer  in  su¬ 
preme  command  at  Detroit.  Boone  knew  that  the 
Governor  felt  very  kindly  towards  him.  When  he 
had  been  earned  to  that  place  a  captive,  the  Governor 
had  made  very  earnest  endeavors  to  obtain  his  liber 

(300) 


210 


DANIEL  BOONE* 


ation.  Influenced  by  these  considerations,  he  consented 
to  hold  the  conference. 

But,  better  acquainted  with  the  Indian  charactei 
than  perhaps  Duquesne  could  have  been,  he  selected 
nine  of  the  most  athletic  and  strong  of  the  garrison, 
and  appointed  the  place  of  meeting  in  front  of  the 
fort,  at  a  distance  of  only  one  hundred  and  twenty 
feet  from  the  walls.  The  riflemen  of  the  garrison 
were  placed  in  a  position  to  cover  the  spot  with  their 
guns,  so  that  in  case  of  treachery  the  Indians  would 
meet  with  instant  punishment,  and  the  retreat  of  the 
party  from  the  fort  would  probably  be  secured.  The 
language  of  Boone  is  : 

“  We  held  a  treaty  within  sixty  yards  of  the  garri¬ 
son  on  purpose  to  divert  them  from  a  breach  of 
honor,  as  we  could  not  avoid  suspicion  of  the  savages.” 

The  terms  proposed  by  General  Duquesne  were 
extremely  liberal.  And  while  they  might  satisfy  the 
British  party,  whose  object  in  the  war  was  simply  to 
conquer  the  colonists  and  bring  them  back  to  loyalty, 
they  could  by  no  means  have  satisfied  the  Indians, 
who  desired  not  merely  to  drive  the  white  men  back 
from  their  hunting  grounds,  but  to  plunder  them  of 
their  possessions  and  to  gratify  their  savage  natures 
by  hearing  the  shrieks  of  their  victims  at  the  stake 
and  by  carrying  home  the  trophies  of  numerous 


VICTORIES  AND  DEFEATS. 


211 


Boone  and  his  men,  buried  in  the  depths  of  the 
wilderness,  had  probably  taken  little  interest  in  the 
controversy  which  was  just  then  rising  between  the 
colonies  and  the  mother  country.  They  had  regarded 
the  King  of  England  as  their  lawful  sovereign,  and 
their  minds  had  never  been  agitated  by  the  question 
of  revolution  or  of  independence.  When,  therefore. 
General  Duquesne  proposed  that  they  should  take 
the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  King  of  Great  Britain, 
and  that  then  they  should  be  permitted  to  return 
unmolested  to  their  homes  and  their  friends  beyond 
the  mountains,  taking  all  their  possessions  with  them, 
Colonel  Boone  and  his  associates  were  very  ready  to 
accept  such  terms.  It  justly  appeared  to  them  in 
their  isolated  condition,  five  hundred  miles  away  from 
the  Atlantic  coast,  that  this  was  vastly  preferable  to 
remaining  in  the  wilderness  assailed  by  thousands  of 
Indians  guided  by  English  energy  and  abundantly 
provided  with  all  the  munitions  of  war  from  British 
arsenals. 

But  Boone  knew  very  well  that  the  Indians  would 
never  willingly  assent  to  this  treaty.  Still  he  and  his 
fellow  commissioners  signed  it  while  very  curious  to 
learn  how  it  would  be  regarded  by  their  savage  foes. 
The  commissioners  on  both  sides  had  appeared  at 
the  appointed  place  of  conference,  as  is  usual  on  such 
occasions,  entirely  unarmed  There  were,  however,  a 


BAOTSL  BOOim 


$12 

large  number  of  Indians  lingering  around  and  draw¬ 
ing  nearer  as  the  conference  proceeded.  After  the 
treaty  was  signed,  the  old  Indian  chief  Black  fish, 
Boone’s  adopted  father,  and  who,  exasperated  by  the 
escape  of  his  ungrateful  son,  had  been  watching  him 
with  a  very  unamiable  expression  of  countenance, 
arose  and  made  a  formal  speech  in  the  most  approved 
style  of  Indian  eloquence.  He  commented  upon  the 
bravery  of  the  two  armies,  and  of  the  desirableness 
that  there  should  be  entire  friendship  between  them, 
and  closed  by  saying  that  it  was  a  custom  with  there 
on  all  such  important  occasions  to  ratify  the  treaty 
by  two  Indians  shaking  hands  with  each  white  man. 

This  shallow  pretense,  scarcely  up  to  the  sagacity 
of  children,  by  which  Blackfish  hoped  that  two  savages 
grappling  each  one  of  the  commissioners  would  easily 
be  able  to  make  prisoners  of  them,  and  then  by- 
threats  of  torture  compel  the  surrender  of  the  fort, 
did  not  in  the  slightest  degree  deceive  Colonel  Boone. 
He  was  well  aware  of  his  own  strength  and  of  that  of 
the  men  who  accompanied  him.  He  also  knew  that 
his  riflemen  occupied  concealed  positions,  from  which, 
with  unerring  aim,  they  could  instantly  punish  the 
savages  for  any  act  of  treachery.  He  therefore  con¬ 
sented  to  the  arrangement.  The  grasp  was  given 
Instantly  a  terrible  scene  of  confusion  ensued. 

The  burly  savages  tried  to  drag  off  their  victims 


VICTORIES  AND  DEFEATS. 


22J 


The  surrounding  Indians  rushed  in  to  their  aid,  and  a 
deadly  fire  was  opened  upon  them  from  the  fort, 
which  was  energetically  responded  to  by  all  the 
armed  savages  from  behind  stumps  and  trees.  One 
of  the  fiercest  of  battles  had  instantly  blazed  forth. 
Still  these  stalwart  pioneers  wrere  not  taken  by  sur¬ 
prise.  Aided  by  the  bullets  of  the  fort,  they  shook 
off  their  assailants,  and  all  succeeded  in  escaping 
within  the  heavy  gates,  which  were  immediately  closed 
behind  them.  One  only  of  their  number,  Boone’s 
brother,  was  wounded.  This  escape  seems  almost 
miraculous.  But  the  majority  of  the  Indians  in  intel¬ 
ligence  were  mere  children  :  sometimes  very  cunning, 
but  often  with  the  grossest  stupidity  mingled  with 
their  strategy. 

Duquesne  and  Blackfish,  the  associated  leaders, 
now  commenced  the  siege  of  the  fort  with  all  their 
energies.  Dividing  their  forces  into  two  parties,  they 
kept  up  an  incessant  fire  upon  the  garrison  for  nine 
days  and  nine  nights.  It  was  one  of  the  most  heroic 
of  those  bloody  struggles  between  civilization  and 
barbarism,  which  have  rendered  the  plains  of  Ken¬ 
tucky  memorable. 

The  savages  were  very  careful  not  to  expose  them¬ 
selves  to  the  rifles  of  the  besieged.  They  were 
stationed  behind  rocks,  and  trees,  and  stumps,  so 
that  it  was  seldom  that  the  garrison  could  catch  even 


214 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


&  glimpse  of  the  foes  who  were  assailing  them.  It 
was  necessary  for  those  within  the  fort  to  be  sparing 
of  their  ammunition.  They  seldom  fired  unless  they 
could  take  deliberate  aim,  and  then  the  bullet  was 
almost  always  sure  to  reach  its  mark.  Colonel  Boone, 
in  describing  this  attempt  of  the  Indians  to  capture 
the  commissioners  by  stratagem,  writes  : 

“  They  immediately  grappled  us,  but,  although 
surrounded  by  hundreds  of  savages,  we  extricated 
ourselves  from  them  and  escaped  all  safe  into  the 
garrison  except  one,  who  was  wounded  through  a 
heavy  fire  from  their  army.  They  immediately  at¬ 
tacked  us  on  every  side,  and  a  constant  heavy  fire 
ensued  between  us,  day  and  night,  for  the  space  of 
nine  days.  In  this  time  the  enemy  began  to  under¬ 
mine  our  fort,  which  was  situated  about  sixty  yards 
from  the  Kentucky  river.  They  began  at  the  water 
mark  and  proceeded  in  the  bank  some  distance, 
which  we  understood  by  their  making  the  water 
muddy  with  the  clay.  We  immediately  proceeded  to 
disappoint  their  design  by  cutting  a  trench  across 
their  subterranean  passage.  The  enemy  discovering 
our  counter  mine  by  the  clay  we  threw  out  of  the 
fort,  desisted  from  that  stratagem.  Experience  now 
fully  convincing  them  that  neither  their  power  nor 
their  policy  could  effect  their  purpose,  on  the  twentieth 
of  August  they  raised  the  siege  and  departed 


VICTORIES  AND  DEFEAT& 


215 


"  During  this  siege,  which  threatened  death  in 
every  form,  we  had  two  men  killed  and  four  wounded, 
besides  a  number  of  cattle.  We  killed  of  the  enemy 
thirty-seven  and  wounded  a  great  number.  After 
they  were  gone  we  picked  up  one  hundred  and  twenty-* 
live  pounds  weight  of  bullets,  besides  what  stuck  in 
the  logs  of  our  fort,  which  certainly  is  a  great  proof 
of  their  industry.” 

It  is  said  that  during  this  siege,  one  of  the  negroes, 
probably  a  slave,  deserted  from  the  fort  with  one  of 
their  best  rifles,  and  joined  the  Indians.  Concealing 
himself  in  a  tree,  where  unseen  he  could  take  deli¬ 
berate  aim,  he  became  one  of  the  most  successful  of 
the  assailants.  But  the  eagle  eye  of  Boone  detected 
him,  and  though,  as  was  afterwards  ascertained  by 
actual  measurement,  the  tree  was  five  hundred  and 
twenty-five  feet  distant  from  the  fort,  Boone  took 
deliberate  aim,  fired,  and  the  man  was  seen  to  drop 
heavily  from  his  covert  to  the  ground.  The  bullet 
from  Boone’s  rifle  had  pierced  his  brain. 

At  one  time  the  Indians  had  succeeded  in  setting 
fire  to  the  fort,  by  throwing  flaming  combustibles 
upon  it,  attached  to  their  arrows.  One  of  the  young 
men  extinguished  the  flames,  exposing  himself  to 
the  concentrated  and  deadly  fire  of  the  assailants  in 
doing  so.  Though  the  bullets  fell  like  hailstones 
around  him,  the  brave  fellow  escaped  unscathed. 


2l6 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


This  repulse  quite  disheartened  the  Indiana 
Henceforth  they  regarded  Boonesborough  as  a 
Gibraltar ;  impregnable  to  any  force  which  they  could 
bilng  against  it.  They  never  assailed  it  again* 
Though  Boonesborough  is  now  but  a  small  village  in 
Kentucky,  it  has  a  history  which  will  render  it  for¬ 
ever  memorable  in  the  annals  of  heroism. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Boone’s  family,  sup¬ 
posing  him  to  have  perished  by  the  hands  of  the 
Indians,  had  returned  to  the  home  of  Mrs.  Boone’s 
father  in  North  Carolina.  Colonel  Boone,  anxious  to 
rejoin  his  wife  and  children,  and  feeling  that  Boones¬ 
borough  was  safe  from  any  immediate  attack  by  the 
Indians,  soon  after  the  dispersion  of  the  savages 
entered  again  upon  the  long  journey  through  the 
wilderness,  to  find  his  friends  east  of  the  mountains. 
In  the  autumn  of  1 778,  Colonel  Boone  again  found 
himself,  after  all  his  wonderful  adventures,  in  a  peace¬ 
ful  home  on  the  banks  of  the  Yadkin. 

The  settlements  in  Kentucky  continued  rapidly  to 
increase.  The  savages  had  apparently  relinquished  all 
hope  of  holding  exclusive  possession  of  the  country. 
Though  there  were  occasional  acts  of  violence  and 
cruelty,  there  was  quite  a  truce  in  the  Indian  warfare. 
But  the  white  settlers,  and  those  who  wished  to 
emigrate,  were  greatly  embarrassed  by  conflicting 
land  claims.  Many  of  the  pioneers  found  their  title* 


VICTORIES  A$I>  DEFEATS,  21  f 

pronounced  to  be  of  no  validity.  Others  who  wished 
to  emigrate,  experienced  great  difficulty  in  obtaining 
secure  possession  of  their  lands.  The  reputation  of 
Kentucky  as  in  all  respects  one  of  the  most  desirable 
of  earthly  regions  for  comfortable  homes,  added  to 
the  desire  of  many  families  to  escape  from  the 
horrors  of  revolutionary  war,  which  was  sweeping 
the  seaboard,  led  to  a  constant  tide  of  emigration 
beyond  the  mountains. 

Under  these  circumstances  the  Government  of 
Virginia  established  a  court,  consisting  of  four 
prominent  citizens,  to  go  from  place  to  place, 
examine  such  titles  as  should  be  presented  to  them, 
and  to  confirm  those  which  were  good.  This  com¬ 
mission  commenced  its  duties  at  St.  Asaphs.  All 
the  old  terms  of  settlement  proposed  by  Henderson 
and  the  Transylvania  Company  were  abrogated. 
Thus  Colonel  Boone  had  no  title  to  a  single  acre  of 
land  in  Kentucky.  A  new  law  however  was  enacted 
as  follows  : 

“  Any  person  may  acquire  title  to  so  much  unap¬ 
propriated  land,  as  he  or  she  may  desire  to  purchase, 
cn  paying  the  consideration  of  forty  pounds  for  every 
one  hundred  acres,  and  so  in  proportion.’'' 

This  money  was  to  be  paid  to  the  State  Treasurer, 
who  would  give  for  it  a  receipt.  This  receipt  was  to 
be  deposited  with  the  State  Auditor,  who  would  in 


21$ 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


exchange  for  it  give  a  certificate.  This  certificate 
was  to  be  lodged  at  the  Land  Office.  There  it  wai 
to  be  registered,  and  a  warrant  was  to  be  given, 
authorizing  the  survey  of  the  land  selected.  Sur¬ 
veyors  who  had  passed  the  ordeal  of  William  and 
Mary  College,  having  defined  the  boundaries  of  the 
land,  were  to  make  a  return  to  the  Land  Office.  A 
due  record  was  there  to  be  made  of  the  survey,  a  deed 
was  to  be  given  in  the  name  of  the  State,  which  deed 
was  to  be  signed  by  the  Governor,  with  the  seal  of  the 
Commonwealth  attached. 

This  was  a  perplexing  labyrinth  for  the  pioneer  to 
pass  through,  before  he  could  get  a  title  to  his  land 
Not  only  Colonel  Boone,  but  it  seems  that  his  family 
were  anxious  to  return  to  the  beautiful  fields  of 
Kentucky.  During  the  few  months  he  remained  on 
the  Yadkin,  he  was  busy  in  converting  eveiy  particle 
of  property  he  possessed  into  money,  and  in  raising 
every  dollar  he  could  for  the  purchase  of  lands  he 
so  greatly  desired.  The  sum  he  obtained  amounted 
to  about  twenty  thousand  dollars,  in  the  depreciated 
paper  currency  of  that  day.  To  Daniel  Boone  this 
was  a  large  sum.  With  this  the  simple-hearted 
man  started  for  Richmond  to  pay  it  to  the  State 
Treasurer,  and  to  obtain  for  it  the  promised  certificate 
He  was  also  entrusted  with  quite  large  sums  of  money 
from  his  neighbors,  ioi  a  similar  purpose. 


VICTORIES  AND  DEFEATS. 


2*9 


On  Ills  way  lie  was  robbed  of  every  dollar  It  was 
a  terrible  blow  to  him,  for  it  not  only  left  him 
penniless,  but  exposed  him  to  the  insinuation  of 
having  feigned  the  robbery,  that  he  might  retain  the 
money  entrusted  to  him  by  his  friends.  Those  who 
knew  Daniel  Boone  well  would  have  no  more  suspected 
him  of  fraud  than  an  angel  of  light.  With  others 
however,  his  character  suffered.  Rumor  was  busy  in 
denouncing  him. 

Colonel  Nathaniel  Hart  had  entrusted  Boone  with 
two  thousand  nine  hundred  pounds.  This  of  course 
was  all  gone.  A  letter,  however,  is  preserved  from 
Colonel  Hart,  which  bears  noble  testimony  to  the 
character  of  the  man  from  whom  he  had  suffered  : 

“  I  observe  what  you  say  respecting  our  losses  by 
Daniel  Boone.  I  had  heard  of  the  misfortune  soon 
after  it  happened,  but  not  of  my  being  a  partaker 
before  now.  I  feel  for  the  poor  people  who  perhaps 
are  to  lose  their  pre-emptions.  But  I  must  say  I  fed 
more  for  Boone,  whose  character  I  am  told  suffers 
by  it.  Much  degenerated  must  the  people  of  this 
age  be,  when  amongst  them  are  to  be  found  men  to 
censure  and  blast  the  reputation  of  a  person  so  just 
and  upright,  and  in  whose  breast  is  a  seat  of  virtue 
too  pure  to  admit  of  a  thought  so  base  and  dishonor¬ 
able.  I  have  known  Boone  in  times  of  old,  when 
poverty  and  distress  had  him  fast  by  the  hand,  and 


£20 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


In  these  wretched  circumstances,  I  have  ever  found 
him  of  a  noble  and  generous  soul,  despising  every¬ 
thing  mean,  and  therefore  I  will  freely  grant  him  & 
discharge  for  whatever  sums  of  mine  he  might  have 
been  possessed  at  the  time.” 

Boone  was  now  forty-five  years  of  age,  but  the 
wardships  to  which  he  had  been  exposed  had  borne 
heavily  upon  him,  and  he  appeared  ten  years  older. 
Though  he  bore  without  a  murmur  the  loss  of  his 
earthly  all,  and  the  imputations  which  were  cast  upon 
his  character,  he  was  more  anxious  than  ever  to  find 
refuge  from  the  embarrassments  which  oppressed 
him  in  the  solitudes  of  his  beautiful  Kentucky. 
Notwithstanding  his  comparative  poverty,  his  family 
on  the  banks  of  the  Yadkin  need  not  experience  any 
want.  Land  was  fertile,  abundant  and  cheap.  He 
and  his  boys  in  a  few  days,  with  their  axes,  could 
erect  as  good  a  house  as  they  desired  to  occupy.  Th« 
cultivation  of  a  few  acres  of  the  soil,  and  the  results 
of  the  chase,  would  provide  them  an  ample  support. 
Here  also  they  could  retire  to  rest  at  night,  with 
unbolted  door  and  with  no  fear  that  their  slumbers 
would  be  disturbed  by  the  yell  of  the  blood-thirsty 
savage. 

The  wile  and  mother  must  doubtless  have  wished 
to  remain  in  her  pleasant  home,  but  cheerfully  and 
nobly  she  acceded  to  his  wishes,  and  was  ready  to 

I 


VICTORIES  AND  DEFEATS, 


221 


accompany  him  to  all  the  abounding  perils  of  the 
distant  West.  Again  the  family  set  out  on  its  jour¬ 
ney  across  the  mountains.  Of  the  incidents  which 
they  encountered,  we  are  not  informed.  The  narrative 
we  have  from  Boone  is  simply  as  follows  :  our  readers 
will  excuse  the  slight  repetition  it  involves  : 

“  About  this  time  I  returned  to  Kentucky  with  my 
family.  And  here,  to  avoid  an  enquiry  into  my 
conduct,  the  reader  being  before  informed  of  my 
bringing  my  family  to  Kentucky,  I  am  under  the 
necessity  of  informing  him  that  during  my  captivity 
with  the  Indians,  my  wife,  who  despaired  of  ever 
seeing  me  again,  had  transported  my  family  and 
goods  back  through  the  wilderness,  amid  a  multitude 
of  dangers,  to  her  father’s  house  in  North  Carolina, 
Shortly  after  the  troubles  at  Boonesborough,  I  went  to 
them  and  lived  peaceably  there  until  this  time.  The 
history  of  my  going  home  and  returning  with  my 
family  forms  a  series  of  difficulties,  an  account  of 
which  would  swell  a  volume.  And  being  foreign  to 
my  purpose  I  shall  omit  them.” 

During  Boone’s  absence  from  Kentucky,  one  of  the 
most  bloody  battles  was  fought,  which  ever  occurred 
between  the  whites  and  the  Indians.  Colonel  Rogers, 
returning  with  supplies  (by  boat)  from  New  Orleans 
to  the  Upper  Ohio,  when  he  arrived  at  the  mouth  ot 
the  Little  Miami  detected  the  Indians  in  large 


222 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


numbers,  painted,  armed,  and  evidently  on  the  wai 
path,  emerging  from  the  mouth  of  the  river  in  theif 
canoes,  and  crossing  the  Ohio  to  the  Kentucky  shore. 
He  cautiously  landed  his  men,  intending  to  attack  the 
Indians  by  surprise.  Instead  of  this,  they  turned  upon 
him  with  overwhelming  numbers,  and  assailed  him 
with  the  greatest  fury.  Colonel  Rogers  and  sixty  of 
his  men  were  almost  instantly  killed.  This  constituted 
nearly  the  whole  of  his  party.  Two  or  three  effected 
their  escape,  and  conveyed  the  sad  tidings  of  the 
massacre  to  the  settlements. 

The  Kentuckians  were  exceedingly  exasperated, 
and  resolved  that  the  Indians  should  feel  the  weight 
of  their  vengeance.  Colonel  Bowman,  in  accordance 
with  a  custom  of  the  times,  issued  a  call,  inviting  all 
the  Kentuckians  wTho  were  willing  to  volunteer  under 
his  leadership  for  the  chastisement  of  the  Indians,  to 
rendezvous  at  Harrodsburg.  Three  hundred  deter¬ 
mined  men  soon  assembled.  The  expedition  moved 
in  the  month  of  July,  and  commenced  the  ascent  of 
the  Little  Miami  undiscovered.  They  arrived  in  the 
vicinity  of  Old  Chilicothe  just  before  nightfall.  Here 
it  was  determined  so  to  arrange  their  forces  in  the 
darkness,  as  to  attack  the  place  just  before  the  dawn 
of  the  ensuing  day.  One  half  of  the  army,  under  the 
command  of  Colonel  Logan,  were  to  grope  their  way 
through  the  woods,  and  march  around  the  town  so  a? 


VICTORIES  AND  DEFEATS. 


223 


fco  attack  it  in  the  rear,  at  a  given  signal  from 
Colonel  Bowman,  who  was  to  place  his  men  in  position 
fcr  efficient  cooperation.  Logan  accomplished  his 
movement,  and  concealing  his  men  behind  stumps, 
trees,  and  rocks,  anxiously  awaited  the  signal  for 
attack. 

But  the  sharp  ear  of  a  watch-dog  detected  some 
unusual  movement,  and  commenced  barking  furiously. 
An  Indian  warrior  came  from  his  cabin,  and  cautiously 
advanced  the  way  the  dog  seemed  to  designate.  As 
the  Indian  drew  near,  one  of  the  party,  by  accident 
or  great  imprudence,  discharged  his  gun.  The  Indian 
gave  a  war-whoop,  which  immediately  startled  all  the 
inmates  of  the  cabins  to  their  feet.  Logan  and  his 
party  were  sufficiently  near  to  see  the  women  and  the 
children  in  a  continuous  line  rushing  over  the  ridge, 
to  the  protection  of  the  forest. 

The  Indian  warriors  instantly  collected  in  several 
strong  cabins,  which  were  their  citadels,  and  from 
whose  loop-holes,  unexposed,  they  could  open  a 
deadly  fire  upon  their  assailants.  In  an  instant,  the 
whole  aspect  of  affairs  was  changed.  The  assailants 
advancing  through  the  clearing,  must  expose  their 
unprotected  breasts  to  the  bullets  of  an  unseen  foe. 
After  a  brief  conflict,  Colonel  Logan,  to  his  bitter 
disappointment  and  that  of  his  men,  felt  constrained 
to  order  a  retreat 


224 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


The  two  parties  were  soon  reunited,  having  Icct 
several  valuable  lives,  and  depressed  by  the  conviction 
that  the  enterprise  had  proved  an  utter  failure.  Tfce 
savages  pursued,  keeping  up  a  harassing  fire  upon  the 
rear  of  the  fugitives.  Fortunately  for  the  white  men, 
the  renowned  Indian  chieftain  Blackfish,  struck  by 
a  bullet,  was  instantly  killed.  This  so  disheartened 
his  followers,  that  they  abandoned  the  pursuit.  The 
fugitives  continued  their  flight  all  the  night,  and  then 
at  their  leisure  returned  to  their  homes  much  dejected. 
In  this  disastrous  expedition,  nine  men  were  killed 
and  one  was  severely  wounded. 

The  Indians,  aided  by  their  English  allies,  resolved 
by  the  invasion  of  Kentucky  to  retaliate  for  the 
invasion  of  the  Little  Miami.  Governor  Hamilton 
raised  a  very  formidable  army,  and  supplied  them 
with  two  pieces  of  artillery.  By  such  weapons  the 
strongest  log  fort  could  speedily  be  demolished; 
while  the  artillerists  would  be  entirely  beyond  the 
reach  of  the  guns  of  the  garrison.  A  British  officer, 
Colonel  Boyd,  commanded  the  combined  force.  The 
valley  of  the  Licking  River,  along  whose  banks  many 
thriving  settlements  had  commenced,  was  their  point 
©f  destination. 

A  twelve  days’  march  from  the  Ohio  brought  this 
srtny,  which  was  considered  a  large  one  in  those  times, 
to  a  post  called  Kuddle’s  Station.  The  garrison  wm 


VICTORIES  AND  DEFEATS. 


22$ 


Isa  mediately  summoned  to  surrender,  with  the  promise 
of  protection  for  their  lives  only.  Resistance  against 
artillery  was  hopeless*  The  place  was  surrendered 
Indians  and  white  men  rushed  in,  alike  eager  few 
plunder,  The  Indians*  breaking  loose  from  all 
restraint,  caught  men,  women  and  children,  and 
claimed  them  as  their  prisoners.  Three  persons 
who  made  some  slight  resistance  were  immediately 
tomahawked. 

The  British  commander  endeavored  to  exonerate 
himself  from  these  atrocities  by  saying  that  it  was 
utterly  beyond  his  power  to  control  the  savages. 
These  wolfish  allies,  elated  by  their  conquest,  their 
plunder  and  their  captives,  now  demanded  to  be  led 
along  the  valley  five  miles  to  the  next  station,  called 
Martin’s  Fort  It  is  said  that  Colonel  Byrd  was  so 
affected  by  the  uncontrollable  atrocities  he  had 
witnessed,  that  he  refused  to  continue  the  expedition, 
unless  the  Indians  would  consent,  that  while  they 
should  receive  all  the  plunder,  he  should  have  all  the 
prisoners.  It  is  also  said  that  notwithstanding  this 
agreement,  the  same  scenes  were  enacted  at  Martin’s 
Fort  which  had  been  witnessed  at  Ruddle’s  Station. 
In  confirmation  of  this  statement,  it  is  certain  that 
Colonel  Byrd  refused  to  go  any  farther.  All  the 
stations  on  the  river  vere  apparently  at  his  disposal, 
End  it  speaks  well  for  his  humanity  that  he  refused  ta 


226 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


lead  any  farther  savages  armed  with  the  tomahawk 
and  the  scalping  knife,  against  his  white  brethren. 
He  could  order  a  retreat,  as  he  did,  but  he  could  not 
rescue  the  captives  from  those  who  had  seized  them. 
The  Indians  loaded  down  their  victims  with  the 
plunder  of  their  own  dwellings,  and  as  they  fell  by 
the  way,  sinking  beneath  their  burdens,  they  buried 
the  tomahawk  in  their  brains. 

The  exasperation  on  both  sides  was  very  great, 
and  General  Clark,  who  was  stationed  at  Fort 
Jefferson  with  a  thousand  picked  men,  entered  the 
Indian  territory,  burned  the  villages,  destroyed  the 
crops,  and  utterly  devastated  the  country.  In  refer* 
ence  to  this  expedition,  Mr.  Cecil  B.  Hartley  writes : 

“  Some  persons  who  have  not  the  slightest  objection 
to  war,  very  gravely  express  doubts  as  to  whether  the 
expedient  of  destroying  the  crops  of  the  Indians  was 
justifiable.  It  is  generally  treated  by  these  men  as  if 
it  were  a  wanton  display  of  a  vindictive  spirit, 
where  in  reality  it  was  dictated  by  the  soundest 
policy ;  for  when  the  Indians’  harvests  were  destroy¬ 
ed,  they  were  compelled  to  subsist  their  families 
altogether  by  hunting,  and  had  no  leisure  for  their 
murderous  inroads  into  the  settlements.  This  result 
was  plainly  seen  on  this  occasion,  for  it  does  not 
appear  that  the  Indians  attacked  any  of  the  settle* 
ments  during  the  remainder  of  this  year.” 


VICTORIES  AND  DEFEATS. 


22J 


The  following  incident,  well  authenticated,  which 
occurred  early  in  the  spring  of  1780,  gives  one  a 
vivid  idea  of  the  nature  of  this  warfare : 

“  Mr.  Alexander  McConnel  of  Lexington,  while  out 
hunting,  killed  a  large  buck.  He  went  home  for 
his  horse  to  bring  it  in.  While  he  was  absent,  five 
Indians  accidentally  discovered  the  body  of  the  deer. 
Supposing  the  hunter  would  return,  three  of  them 
hid  themselves  within  rifle  shot  of  the  carcass  while 
two  followed  his  trail.  McConnel,  anticipating  no 
danger,  was  riding  slowly  along  the  path,  when  he 
was  fired  upon  from  ambush,  his  horse  shot  beneath 
him,  and  he  seized  as  a  prisoner.  His  captors  were 
in  high  glee,  and  treated  him  with  unusual  kindness. 
His  skill  with  the  rifle  excited  their  admiration,  and 
as  he  provided  them  with  abundance  of  game,  they 
soon  became  quite  fond  of  him.  Day  after  day  the 
savages  continued  their  tramp  to  the  Ohio  river,  to 
cross  over  to  their  own  country.  Every  night  they 
bound  him  very  strongly.  As  they  became  better 
acquainted,  and  advanced  farther  from  the  settle¬ 
ments  of  the  pioneers,  they  in  some  degree  remitted 
their  vigilance.  One  evening  when  they  had  arrived 
near  the  Ohio,  McConnel  complained  so  earnestly  of 
the  pain  which  the  tightly  bound  cords  gave  him, 
that  they  more  loosely  fastened  the  cord  of  buffalo 
hide  around  his  wrists.  Still  they  tied  it,  as  they 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


supposed  securely,  and  attached  the  end  of  the  cos'd 
to  the  body  of  one  of  the  Indians. 

u  At  midnight,  McConnel  discovered  a  sharp  knife 
lying  near  him,  which  had  accidentally  fallen  from 
its  sheat.  He  drew  it  to  him  with  his  feet,  and  suc¬ 
ceeded  noiselessly  in  cutting  the  cords.  Still  he 
hardly  dared  to  stir,  for  there  was  danger  that  the 
slightest  movement  might  rouse  his  vigilant  foes. 
The  savages  had  stacked  their  five  guns  near  the  fire. 
Cautiously  he  crept  towards  them,  and  secreted  three 
at  but  a  short  distance  where  they  would  not  easily 
find  them.  He  then  crept  noiselessly  back,  took  a 
rifle  in  each  hand,  rested  the  muzzles  upon  a  log,  and 
aiming  one  at  the  heart,  and  one  at  the  head  of  two 
Indians  at  the  distance  of  a  few  feet,  discharged  both 
guns  simultaneously. 

“  Both  shots  were  fatal.  The  three  remaining  savage* 
in  bewilderment  sprang  to  their  feet.  McConnel 
instantly  seizing  the  two  other  guns,  shot  one  through 
the  heart,  and  inflicted  a  terrible  wound  upon  the 
other.  He  fell  to  the  ground  bellowing  loudly.  Soon 
however  he  regained  his  feet  and  hobbled  off  into  the 
woods  as  fast  as  possible.  The  only  remaining  one 
of  the  party  who  was  unhurt  uttered  a  loud  yell  of 
terror  and  dismay,  and  bounded  like  a  deer  into  the 
forest.  McConnel  was  not  disposed  to  remain  even 
for  one  moment  to  contemplate  the  result  of  his 


VICTORIES  AND  DEFEATS. 


229 


achievement  He  selected  his  own  trusty  rifle,  plunged 
into  the  forest,  and  with  the  unerring  instinct  of  the 
veteran  hunter,  in  two  days  readied  the  garrison  at 
Lesd&gton  to  relate  to  them  his  wonderful  escafnC 


2 


CHAPTER  X 


British  A  Hies. 


Death  of  Squire  Boone. — Indian  Outrages. — Gerty  and  McGee.— 
Battle  of  Blue  Lick. — De&th  of  Isaac  Boone. — Colonel  Boone’s 
Narrow  Escape. — Letter  of  Daniel  Boone. — Determination  erf 
General  Clarke. — Discouragement  of  the  Savages. — Amusing 
Anecdote  of  Daniel  Boone. 

It  was  in  the  autumn  of  the  year  1780  that  Daniel 
Boone,  with  his  family,  returned  to  Boonesborough. 
A  year  before,  the  Legislature  of  Virginia  had  recog¬ 
nized  essentially  what  is  now  Kentucky  as  one  of  the 
counties  of  Virginia,  and  had  established  the  town  0/ 
Boonesborough  as  its  capital.  By  this  act  Daniel 
Boone  was  named  one  of  the  trustees  or  selectmen. 
Town  lots  were  ordered  to  be  surveyed,  and  a  very 
liberal  grant  of  land  was  conferred  upon  every  one 
who  would  erect  a  house  at  least  sixteen  feet  square, 
with  either  brick,  stone,  or  dirt  chimney.  For  some 
reason  Colonel  Boone  declined  this  office.  It  is 
probable  that  he  was  disgusted  by  his  own  experience 
in  the  civil  courts. 

There  was  little  danger  now  of  an  attack  upon 
Boonesborough  by  the  Indians.  There  were  so  many 
Battlements  around  it  that  no  foe  could  approach 

(2301 


BRITISH  ALLIES. 


231 

without  due  warning  and  without  encountering  serious 
opposition.  On  the  sixth  of  October  Daniel  Boone, 
with  his  brother  Squire,  left  the  fort  alone  for  what 
would  seem  to  be  an  exceedingly  imprudent  excursion, 
so  defenceless,  to  the  Blue  Licks.  They  reached  the 
Licks  in  safety.  While  there  they  were  discovered  by 
a  party  of  Indians,  and  were  fired  upon  from  ambush. 
Squire  Boone  was  instantly  killed  and  scalped.  Daniel, 
heart-stricken  by  the  loss  of  his  beloved  brother,  fled 
like  a  deer,  pursued  by  the  whole  band,  filling  the 
forest  with  their  yells  like  a  pack  of  hounds.  The 
Indians  had  a  very  powerful  dog  with  them,  who, 
with  unerring  scent,  followed  closely  in  the  trail  of 
the  fugitive.  For  three  miles  this  unequal  chase  con¬ 
tinued.  The  dog,  occasionally  embarrassed  in  his 
pursuit,  would  be  delayed  for  a  time  in  regaining  the 
trail.  The  speed  of  Boone  wras  such  that  the  foremost 
of  the  savages  was  left  far  behind.  He  then,  as  the 
dog  came  bounding  on,  stopped,  took  deliberate  aim, 
and  shot  the  brute. 

Boone  was  still  far  from  the  fort,  but  he  reached  it 
in  safety,  leaving  upon  the  Indians  the  impression 
that  he  bore  a  charmed  life.  He  was  very  deeply 
afflicted  by  the  death  of  his  brother.  Squire  was  the 
youngest  of  the  sons,  and  the  tie  which  bound  the 
brothers  together  was  unusually  tender  and  confiden¬ 
tial.  They  had  shared  in  many  perilous  adventures, 


2$2 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


and  for  months  had  dwelt  entirely  alone  in  the  wilder* 
ness,  far  away  from  any  other  society. 

The  winter  of  1780  was  one  of  the  saddest  in  the 
annals  of  our  country.  The  colonial  army,  every* 
where  defeated,  was  in  the  most  deplorable  state  of 
destitution  and  suffering.  Our  frontiers  were  most 
cruelly  ravaged  by  a  barbarian  foe.  To  add  to  all 
this,  the  winter  was  severely  cold,  beyond  any  prece- 
dent.  The  crops  had  been  so  destroyed  by  the 
enemy  that  many  of  the  pioneers  were  compelled  to 
live  almost  entirely  upon  the  flesh  of  the  buffalo. 

Virginia,  in  extending  her  jurisdiction  over  her 
western  lands  of  Kentucky,  now,  for  the  sake  of  a 
more  perfect  military  organization,  divided  the  exten¬ 
sive  region  into  three  counties — Fayette,  Lincoln, 
and  J efferson.  General  Clarke  was  made  commander- 
in-chief  of  the  Kentucky  militia.  Daniel  Boone  was 
commissioned  as  Lieutenant-Colonel  of  Lincoln 
County.  The  emigration  into  the  State  at  this  time 
may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that  the  Court  of  Com¬ 
missioners  to  examine  land  titles,  at  the  close  of  its 
session  of  seven  months  had  granted  three  thousand 
claims.  Its  meetings  had  been  held  mainly  at 
Boonesborough,  and  its  labors  terminated  in  April, 
1780.  During  the  spring  three  hundred  barge% 
loaded  with  emigrants,  were  floated  down  the  Ohio 
feo  the  Falls,  at  what  is  now  Louisville. 


BRITISH  ALLIES. 


233 


As  we  have  stated,  the  winter  had  been  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  on  record.  From  the  middle  of 
November  to  the  middle  of  February,  the  ground  was 
covered  with  snow  and  ice,  without  a  thaw.  The 
severity  of  the  cold  was  terrible.  Nearly  all  unpro¬ 
tected  animals  perished.  Even  bears,  buffalo,  wolves, 
and  wild  turkeys  were  found  frozen  in  the  woods. 
The  starving  wild  animals  often  came  near  the  settle¬ 
ment  for  food.  For  seventy-five  years  the  winter  of 
1780  was  an  era  to  which  the  old  men  referred. 

Though  the  Indians  organized  no  formidable  raids, 
they  were  very  annoying.  No  one  could  safely  wan¬ 
der  any  distance  from  the  forts.  In  March,  1781, 
several  bands  entered  J  efferson  County,  and  by  lying 
in  ambush  killed  four  of  the  settlers.  Captain  Whit¬ 
taker,  with  fifteen  men,  went  in  pursuit  of  them.  He 
followed  their  trail  to  the  banks  of  the  Ohio.  Sup¬ 
posing  they  had  crossed,  he  and  his  party  embarked 
in  canoes,  boldly  to  continue  the  pursuit  into  the 
Indian  country.  They  had  scarcely  pushed  a  rod 
from  the  shore  when  hideous  yells  rose  from  the 
Indians  in  ambush,  and  a  deadly  fire  was  opened 
upon  the  canoes  Nine  of  the  pioneers  were  instantly 
killed  or  wounded.  The  savages,  having  accom¬ 
plished  this  feat,  fled  into  the  wilderness,  where  the 
party,  thus  weakened  in  numbers,  could  not  pursue 
them. 


*34 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


A  small  party  of  settlers  had  reared  their  log-huts 
near  the  present  site  of  Shelbyville.  Squire  Boone 
had  been  one  of  the  prominent  actors  in  the  estab 
lishment  of  this  little  colony.  Alarmed  by  the 
menaces  of  the  savages,  these  few  settlers  decided  to 
remove  to  a  more  secure  station  on  Bear’s  Creek. 
On  their  way  they  were  startled  by  the  war-whoop  of 
they  knew  not  how  many  Indians  concealed  in  am¬ 
bush,  and  a  storm  of  bullets  fell  upon  them,  killing 
and  wounding  many  of  their  number.  The  miscreants, 
scarcely  waiting  for  the  return  fire,  fled  with  yells 
which  resounded  through  the  forest,  leaving  their 
victims  to  the  sad  task  of  burying  the  dead  and 
nursing  the  wounded.  Colonel  Floyd  collected  twen¬ 
ty-five  men  to  pursue  them.  The  wary  Indians, 
nearly  two  hundred  in  number,  drew  them  into  an 
ambush  and  opened  upon  the  party  a  deadly  fire 
which  almost  instantly  killed  half  their  number.  The 
remainder  with  great  difficulty  escaped,  leaving 
their  dead  to  be  mutilated  by  the  scalping  knife  of 
the  savage. 

Almost  every  day  brought  tidings  of  similar  disas¬ 
ters.  The  Indians,  emboldened  by  these  successes, 
seemed  to  rouse  themselves  to  a  new  determination 
to  exterminate  the  whites.  The  conduct  of  the 
British  Government,  in  calling  such  wretches  to  their 
alliance  in  theii  war  with  the  colonies,  created  th« 


BRITISH  ALLIES. 


23S 


greatest  exasperation.  Thomas  Jefferson  gave  ex¬ 
pression  to  the  public  sentiment  in  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  in  which  he  says,  in  arraignment  of 
King  George  the  Third  : 

**  He  has  endeavored  to  bring  on  the  inhabitants  of 
our  frontiers  the  merciless  Indian  savages,  whose 
known  rule  of  warfare  is  an  undistinguished  destruc¬ 
tion  of  all  ages,  sexes,  and  conditions.” 

There  were  two  wretched  men,  official  agents  of 
the  British  Government,  who  were  more  savage  than 
the  savages  themselves.  One  of  them,  a  vagabond 

I 

named  Simon  Gerty,  had  joined  the  Indians  by 
adoption.  He  had  not  only  acquired  their  habits, 
but  had  become  their  leader  in  the  most  awful  scenes 
of  ferocity.  He  was  a  tory,  and  as  such  was  the 
bitterest  foe  of  the  colonists,  who  were  struggling  for 
independence.  The  other,  Colonel  McGee,  with  a 
little  more  respectability  of  character,  was  equally 
fiendlike  in  exciting  the  Indians  to  the  most  revolting 
barbarities.  Thus  incited  and  sustained  by  British 
authority,  the  Indians  kept  all  the  settlers  in  Ken¬ 
tucky  in  constant  alarm. 

Instigated  by  the  authorities  at  Detroit,  the  wai- 
riors  of  five  tribes  assembled  at  Old  Chilicothe  to 
organize  the  most  formidable  expedition  which  had 
as  yet  invaded  Kentucky.  These  tribes  were  the 
Shawanese  on  the  Little  Miami,  the  Cherokees  on  the 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


236 

Tennessee,  the  Wyandot ts  on  the  Sandusky ,  the 
Tawas  on  the  Maumee,  and  the  Delawares  on  the 
Muskingum. 

Their  choicest  warriors,  6ve  hundred  in  number, 
rendezvoused  at  Old  Chilicothe.  This  Indian  village 
was  built  in  the  form  of  a  square  enclosing  a  large 
area.  Some  of  their  houses  were  of  logs,  some  of 
bark,  some  of  reeds  filled  in  with  clay.  Boone  says 
that  the  Indians  concentrated  their  utmost  force  and 
vengeance  upon  this  expedition,  hoping  to  destroy 
the  settlements  and  to  depopulate  the  country  at  a 
single  blow. 

Not  far  from  Boonesborough,  in  the  same  valley 
of  the  Kentucky,  there  was  a  small  settlement  called 
Bryant’s  Station.  William  Bryant,  the  founder,  had 
married  a  sister  of  Colonel  Boone.  On  the  fifteenth 
of  August,  a  war  party  of  five  hundred  Indians  and 
Canadians,  under  the  leadership  of  Simon  Gerty, 
appeared  before  this  little  cluster  of  log-huts,  each  of 
which  was  of  course  bullet-proof.  The  settlers  fought 
heroically.  Gerty  was  wounded,  and  thirty  of  his 
band  were  killed,  while  the  garrison  lost  but  four. 
The  assailing  party,  thus  disappointed  in  their  ex* 
pectation  of  carrying  the  place  by  storm,  and  fearing 
the  arrival  of  reinforcements  from  other  settlements, 
hastily  retired.  Colonel  Boone,  hearing  of  the  attack, 
hastened  to  the  rescue,  joining  troops  from  several  of 


BRITISH  ALLIES. 


237 


the  adjacent  forts.  The  party  consisted  of  one  hun¬ 
dred  and  eighty  men,  under  the  leadership  of  Colonel 
Todd,  one  of  “  nature’s  noblemen.”  Colonel  Boone 
seems  to  have  been  second  in  command.  Two  of  his 
sons,  Israel  and  Samuel,  accompanied  their  father 
upon  this  expedition. 

The  Indians,  led  by  British  officers,  were  far  more 
to  be  dreaded  than  when  left  to  their  own  cunning, 
which  was  often  childish.  As  the  little  band  of 
pioneers,  rushing  to  the  rescue,  approached  Bryant’s 
Station  and  were  informed  of  the  retreat  of  the 
invaders,  a  council  of  war  was  held,  to  decide  whether 
it  were  best  for  a  hundred  and  eighty  men  to  pursue 
five  hundred  Indians  and  Canadians,  through  a  region 
where  every  mile  presented  the  most  favorable  oppor¬ 
tunities  for  concealment  in  ambush.  Gerty  was  a 
desperado  who  was  to  be  feared  as  well  as  hated. 
Contrary  to  the  judgment  of  both  Colonels  Todd 
and  Boone,  it  was  decided  to  pursue  the  Indians. 
There  was  no  difficulty  in  following  the  trail  of  so 
large  a  band,  many  of  whom  were  mounted.  Their 
path  led  almost  directly  north,  to  the  Licking  River, 
and  then  followed  down  its  banks  towards  the  Ohkx 

As  the  pursuers  were  cautiously  advancing,  they 
came  to  a  remarkable  bend  in  the  stream,  where 
there  was  a  large  and  open  space,  with  prairie  grass 
very  high.  A  well  trampled  buffalo  track  led  through 


233 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


this  grass,  which  was  almost  like  a  forest  of  reeds. 
Along  this  “  street  ”  the  Indians  had  retreated.  The 
scouts  who  had  been  sent  forward  to  explore,  returned 
with  the  report  that  there  were  no  signs  of  Indians. 
And  yet,  four  hundred  savages  had  so  adroitly  con¬ 
cealed  themselves,  that  their  line  really  extended  from 
bank  to  bank  of  the  river,  where  it  bent  like  a  horse¬ 
shoe  before  them.  The  combined  cunning  of  the 
Indian,  and  the  intelligence  of  their  white  leaders,  was 
now  fatally  enlisted  for  the  destruction  of  the  settlers. 
A  hundred  and  eighty  men  were  to  be  caught  in  a 
trap,  with  five  hundred  demons  prepared  to  shoot  them 
down. 

As  soon  as  Colonel  Todd’s  party  passed  the  neck 
of  this  bend,  the  Indians  closed  in  behind  them,  rose 
from  their  concealment,  and  with  terrific  yells  opened 
upon  them  a  still  more  terrific  fire.  The  pioneers 
fought  with  the  courage  of  desperation.  At  the  first 
discharge,  nearly  one  third  of  Colonel  Todd’s  little 
party  fell  dead  or  wounded.  Struck  fatally  by  several 
bullets,  Colonel  Todd  himself  fell  from  his  horse 
drenched  with  blood.  While  a  portion  of  the  Indians 
kept  up  the  fire,  others,  with  hideous  yells  sprang 
forward  with  tomahawk  and  scalping  knife,  completing 
their  fiendlike  work.  It  was  a  scene  of  awful  con¬ 
fusion  and  dismay.  The  survivors  fighting  every  step 
of  the  way,  retreated  towards  the  river,  for  there  was 


BRITISH  ALLIES. 


239 


<30  escape  back  through  their  thronging  foes.  Colonel 
Boone's  two  sons  fought  by  the  side  of  their  father. 
Samuel,  the  younger,  struck  by  a  bullet,  was  severely 
but  not  mortally  wounded.  Isaac,  his  second  son,  fell 
dead.  The  unhappy  father  took  his  dead  boy  upon 
his  shoulders  to  save  him  from  the  scalping  knifa 
As  he  tottered  beneath  the  bleeding  body,  an  Indian 
of  herculean  stature  with  uplifted  tomahawk  rushed 
upon  him.  Colonel  Boone  dropped  the  body  of  his 
son,  shot  the  Indian  through  the  heart,  and  seeing 
the  savages  rushing  upon  him  from  all  directions, 
fled,  leaving  the  corpse  of  his  boy  to  its  fate. 

Being  intimately  acquainted  with  the  ground,  he 
plunged  into  a  ravine,  baffling  several  parties  who 
pursued  him,  swam  across  the  river,  and  entering  the 
forest  succeeded  in  escaping  from  his  foes,  and  at 
length  safely  by  a  circuitous  route  returned  to  Bryant's 
Station.  In  the  meantime  the  scene  of  tumult  and 
slaughter  was  awful  beyond  all  description.  Victors 
and  vanquished  were  blended  together  upon  the  banks 
oi  the  stream.  In  this  dreadful  conflict  there  were 
four  Indians  to  each  white  man.  There  was  a  narrow 
ford  at  the  spot,  but  the  whole  stream  seemed  clogged, 
some  swimming  and  some  trying  to  wade,  while  the 
exultant  Indians  shot  and  tomahawked  without 
mercy.  Those  who  succeeded  in  crossing  the  river, 
leaving  the  great  buffalo  track  which  they  had  been 


240 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


following,  plunged  into  the  thickets,  and  though 
vigorously  pursued  by  the  Indians,  most  of  them 
eventually  reached  the  settlements. 

In  this  dreadful  disaster,  the  colonists  lost  sixty 
men  in  killed  and  seven  were  taken  prisoners.  The 
Indians  in  counting  up  their  loss,  found  that  sixty- 
four  were  missing.  In  accordance  with  their  barbaric 
custom,  they  selected  in  vengeance  four  of  the  pri¬ 
soners  and  put  them  to  death  by  the  most  terrible 
tortures  which  savage  ingenuity  could  devise.  Had 
Colonel  Boone's  advice  been  followed,  this  calamity 
might  have  been  avoided.  Still  characteristically,  he 
uttered  not  a  word  of  complaint  In  his  comments 
upon  the  event  he  says  : 

“I  cannot  reflect  upon  this  dreadful  scene  but 
sorrow  fils  my  heart.  A  zeal  for  the  defence  of 
their  country  led  these  heroes  to  the  scene  of  action, 
though  with  a  few  men  to  attack  a  powerful  army  ol 
experienced  warriors.  When  we  gave  way,  they 
pursued  us  with  the  utmost  eagerness,  and  in  every 
quarter  spread  destruction.  The  river  was  difficult 
to  cross,  and  many  were  killed  in  the  flight ;  some 
just  entering  the  river,  some  in  the  water,  others  after 
crossing,  in  ascending  the  cliffs.  Some  escaped  on 
horseback,  a  few  on  foot ;  and  being  dispersed  every¬ 
where  in  a  few  hours,  brought  the  melancholy  news 
of  this  unfortunate  conflict  to  Lro  ington.  The  reada? 


BRITISH  ALLIES. 


24I 


may  guess  what  sorrow  filled  the  hearts  of  the 
inhabitants ;  exceeding  anything  I  am  able  to  des¬ 
cribe.  Being  reinforced  we  returned  to  bury  the 
dead,  and  found  their  bodies  strewed  everywhere, 
cut  and  mangled  in  a  dreadful  manner.  This  mourn¬ 
ful  scene  exhibited  a  horror  almost  unparalleled ; 
some  tom  and  eaten  by  wild  beasts  ;  those  in  the 
river  eaten  by  fishes  ;  all  in  such  a  putrified  condition 
that  no  one  could  be  distinguished  from  another.” 

This  battle  of  the  Blue  Licks,  as  it  is  called, 
occupies  one  of  the  most  mournful  pages  in  the  history 
of  Kentucky.  The  escape  of  Boone  adds  another  to 
the  extraordinary  adventures  of  this  chivalric  and 
now  sorre  w- stricken  man.  Colonel  Boone  communi¬ 
cated  an  official  report  to  the  Governor  of  Virginia, 
Benjamin  Harrison,  father  of  William  Henry  Harri¬ 
son,  subsequently  President  of  the  United  States. 
In  this  report,  it  is  noticeable  that  Boone  makes  no 
allusion  whatever  to  his  own  services.  This  modest 
document  throws  such  light  upon  the  character  of 
this  remarkable  man,  and  upon  the  peril  of  the 
times,  that  it  merits  full  insertion  here.  It  is  as 
follows : 

“  Boone’s  Station,  Fayette  Co.,  Aug.  30,  1782. 

“  Sir, — Present  circumstances  of  affairs  cause  me  to 

write  to  Your  Excellency,  as  follows:  On  the 

21 


242 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


sixteenth  instant,  a  large  body  of  Indians,  with  some 
white  men,  attacked  one  of  our  frontier  stations, 
known  as  Bryant’s  Station.  The  siege  continued 
from  about  sunrise  until  two  o’clock  of  the  next  day, 
when  they  marched  off.  Notice  being  given  to  the 
neighboring  stations,  we  immediately  raised  one  hun¬ 
dred  and  eighty-one  horsemen,  commanded  by  CoL 
John  Todd,  including  some  of  the  Lincoln  County 
militia,  and  pursued  about  forty  miles.” 

After  a  brief  account  of  the  battle  which  we  have 
already  given,  he  continues  : 

"  Afterwards  we  were  reinforced  by  Colonel  Logan, 
which  made  our  force  four  hundred  and  sixty  men. 
We  marched  again  to  the  battle  ground,  but  finding 
the  enemy  had  gone,  we  proceeded  to  bury  the  dead. 
We  found  forty-three  on  the  ground,  and  many  lay 
about  which  we  could  not  stay  to  find,  hungry  and 
weary  as  we  were,  and  dubious  that  the  enemy  might 
not  have  gone  off  quite.  By  the  sign,  we  thought 
that  the  Indians  exceeded  four  hundred,  while  the 
whole  of  the  militia  of  the  county  does  not  amount  to 
more  than  one  hundred  and  thirty. 

“  From  these  facts,  Your  Excellency  may  form  an 
idea  of  our  situation.  I  know  that  your  own  circum¬ 
stances  are  critical ;  but  are  we  to  be  wholly  forgotten  ? 
I  hope  not.  I  trust  that  about  five  hundred  men  may 
be  sent  to  our  assistance  immediately.  If  these  shall 


BRITISH  ALLIES. 


243 


be  stationed  as  our  county  lieutenant  shall  deem 
necessary,  it  may  be  the  means  of  saving  our  part  of 
the  country.  But  if  they  are  placed  under  the  direc¬ 
tion  of  General  Clarke,  they  will  be  of  little  or  no 
service  to  our  settlement  The  Falls  lie  one  hundred 
miles  west  of  us,  and  the  Indians  north-east ;  while 
our  men  are  frequently  called  to  protect  them. 

“  1  have  encouraged  the  people  in  this  county  all 
that  I  could  ;  but  I  can  no  longer  justify  them  or 
myself  to  risk  our  lives  here,  under  such  extraordinary 
hazards.  The  inhabitants  of  this  county  are  very 
much  alarmed  at  the  thoughts  of  the  Indians  bringing 
another  campaign  into  our  country  this  fall  If  this 
should  be  the  case,  it  will  break  up  these  settlements. 
I  hope  therefore  that  Your  Excellency  will  take  the 
matter  into  your  consideration,  and  send  us  some 
relief  as  quick  as  possible.  These  are  my  sentiments 
without  consulting  any  person.  Colonel  Logan  will 
I  expect  immediately  send  you  an  express,  by  whom 
I  humbly  request  Your  Excellency's  answer.  In  the 
meantime,  I  remain  yours,  &c.,  Daniel  Boone.” 

General  Clarke,  who  was  the  military  leader  of 
Kentucky  under  the  Colonial  government,  was  estab¬ 
lished  at  the  Falls.  The  British  authorities  held  their 
head-quarters  at  Detroit,  from  which  post  they  were 
sending  out  their  Indian  allies  in  all  directions  to 
ravage  the  frontiers.  General  Clarke  was  a  man  of 


344 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


great  energy  of  character,  and  he  was  anxious  t® 
organise  an  expedition  against  Detroit  With  this 
object  in  view,  he  had  by  immense  exertions  assem¬ 
bled  a  force  of  nearly  two  thousand  men.  Much  to 
his  chagrin,  he  received  orders  to  remain  at  the  Falls 
for  the  present,  to  protect  the  frontiers  then  so  se¬ 
verely  menaced.  But  when  the  tidings  reached  him 
of  the  terrible  disaster  at  the  Blue  Lick,  he  resolved  to 
pursue  the  Indians  and  punish  them  with  the  greatest 
severity. 

The  exultant  savages  had  returned  to  Old  Chili- 
cothe,  and  had  divided  their  spoil  and  their  captives. 
Colonel  Boone  was  immediately  sent  for  to  take  part 
in  this  expedition.  Clarke’s  army  crossed  the  Ohio, 
and  marching  very  rapidly  up  the  banks  of  the  Little 
Miami,  arrived  within  two  miles  of  Chilicothe  before 
they  were  discovered.  On  perceiving  the  enemy  the 
Indians  scattered  in  all  directions.  Men,  women  and 
children  fled  into  the  remote  forest,  abandoning  their 
homes  and  leaving  everything  behind  them.  The 
avenging  army  swept  the  valley  with  fire  and  ruin. 
Their  corn  just  ripening,  and  upon  which  they  mainly 
relied  for  their  winter  supply  of  food,  was  utterly  des¬ 
troyed.  Every  tree  which  bore  any  fruit  was  felled, 
and  five  of  their  towns  were  laid  in  ashes.  The  trail 
of  the  army  presented  a  scene  of  utter  desolation. 

The  savages  we~e  alike  astonished  and  dismayed 


BRITISH  ALLIES. 


245 


They  had  supposed  that  the  white  men*  disheartened 
by  their  dreadful  defeat  at  the  Blue  Lick,  would 
abandon  the  country.  Instead  of  that,  with  amazing 
recuperative  power,  they  had  scarcely  reached  their 
homes  ere  another  army,  utterly  resistless  in  numbers, 
is  burning  their  towns  and  destroying  their  whole 
country. 

This  avenging  campaign  so  depressed  the  Indians 
that  they  made  no  farther  attempt  for  the  organised 
invasion  of  Kentucky.  The  termination  of  the  war 
with  Ei  igland  also  deprived  them  of  their  military 
resources,  and  left  them  to  their  own  unaided  and 
unintelligent  efforts.  Still  miserable  bands  continued 
prowling  around,  waylaying  and  murdering  the  lonely 
traveler,  setting  fire  to  the  solitary  hut  and  inflicting 
such  other  outrages  as  were  congenial  with  their  cruel 
natures.  It  thus  became  necessary  for  the  pioneers 
always  to  live  with  the  rifle  in  hand. 

Colonel  Boone  had  become  especially  obnoxious  to 
the  Indians.  Twice  he  had  escaped  from  them,  under 
circumstances  which  greatly  mortified  their  vanity. 
They  recognised  the  potency  of  his  rifle  in  the 
slaughter  of  their  own  warriors  at  the  Blue  Lick  ;  and 
they  were  well  aware  that  it  was  his  sagacity  which 
led  the  army  of  General  Clarke  in  its  avenging  march 
through  their  country.  It  thus  became  with  them  an 
object  of  intense  desire  to  take  him  prisoner,  and  had 


DANIEL  BOONE, 


246 

he  been  taken,  he  would  doubtless  have  been  doomed 
to  the  severest  torture  they  could  inflict. 

Mr.  Peck,  in  his  interesting  life  of  Boone,  gives  the 
following  account  of  one  of  the  extraordinary  adven- 
tures  of  this  man,  which  he  received  from  the  lips  oi 
Colonel  Boone  himself.  On  one  occasion,  four  Indians 
suddenly  appeared  before  his  cabin  and  took  him 
prisoner.  Though  the  delicacy  of  Colonel  Boone's 
organization  was  such,  that  he  could  never  himself 
relish  tobacco  in  any  form,  he  still  raised  some  for  his 
friends  and  neighbors,  and  for  what  were  then  deemed 
the  essential  rites  of  hospitality. 

“  As  a  shelter  for  curing  the  tobacco,  he  had  built 
an  enclosure  of  rails  a  dozen  feet  in  height  and 
covered  with  canes  and  grass.  Stalks  of  tobacco  are 
generally  split  and  strung  on  sticks  about  four  feet  in 
length.  The  ends  of  these  are  laid  on  poles  placed 
across  the  tobacco  house,  and  in  tiers  one  above 
another,  to  the  roof.  Boone  had  fixed  his  temporary 
shelter  in  such  a  manner  as  to  have  three  tiers.  He 
had  covered  the  lower  tier  and  the  tobacco  had  become 
dry  ;  when  he  entered  the  shelter  for  the  purpose  of 
removing  the  sticks  to  the  upper  tier,  preparatory  tc 
gathering  the  remainder  of  the  crop.  He  had  hoisted 
up  the  sticks  from  the  lower  to  the  second  tier,  and 
was  standing  on  the  poles  which  supported  it,  while 
raising  the  sticks  to  the  upper  tier,  when  four  stout 


BRITISH  ALOES.  247 

Indians,  with  guns,  entered  the  low  door  and  called 
him  by  name. 

“  *  Now,  Boone,  we  got  you.  You  no  get  away  more. 
We  carry  you  off  to  Chilicothe  this  time.  You  no 
cheat  us  anymore.* 

“  Boone  looked  down  upon  their  upturned  faces, 
saw  their  loaded  guns  pointed  at  his  breast,  and 
recognising  some  of  his  old  friends  the  Shawanese, 
who  had  made  him  prisoner  near  the  Blue  Licks  in 
1778,  coolly  and  pleasantly  responded  : 

“  4  Ah,  old  friends,  glad  to  see  you.* 

“  Perceiving  that  they  manifested  impatience  to 
have  him  come  down,  he  told  them  he  was  quite 
willing  to  go  with  them,  and  only  begged  that  they 
would  wait  where  they  were,  and  watch  him  closely 
until  he  could  finish  removing  the  tobacco. 

u  While  thus  parleying  with  them,  Boone  inquired 
earnestly  respecting  his  old  friends  in  Chilicothe.  He 
continued  for  some  time  to  divert  the  attention  of 
these  simple-minded  men,  by  allusions  to  past  events 
with  which  they  were  familiar,  and  by  talking  of  his 
tobacco,  his  mode  of  curing  it,  and  promising  them 
an  abundant  supply.  With  their  guns  in  their  hands 
however,  they  stood  at  the  door  of  the  shed,  grouped 
closely  together  so  as  to  render  his  escape  apparently 
impossible.  In  the  meantime  Boone  carefully  gathered 
his  arms  full  of  the  long,  dry  tobacco  leaves,  filled 


248  DANIEL  BOONE. 

with  pungent  dust,  which  would  be  blinding  and 
stifling  as  the  most  powerful  snuff,  and  then  with  a 
leap  from  his  station  twelve  feet  high,  came  directly 
upon  their  heads,  filling  their  eyes  and  nostrils,  and  so 
bewildering  and  disabling  them  for  the  moment,  that 
they  lost  all  self-possession  and  all  self-control. 

“  Boone,  agile  as  a  deer,  darted  out  at  the  door,  and 
in  a  moment  was  in  his  bullet-proof  log-hut,  which  to 
him  was  an  impregnable  citadel.  Loop-holes  guarded 
every  approach.  The  Indians  could  not  shew  them¬ 
selves  without  exposure  to  certain  death.  They 
were  too  well  acquainted  with  the  unerring  aim  of 
Boone’s  rifle  to  venture  within  its  range.  Keeping 
the  log  cabin  between  them  and  their  redoubtable 
foe,  the  baffled  Indians  fled  into  the  wilderness. 

“  Colonel  Boone  related  this  adventure  with  great 
glee,  imitating  the  gestures  of  the  bewildered  Indians. 
He  said  that  notwithstanding  his  narrow  escape,  he 
could  not  resist  the  temptation,  as  he  reached  the  door 
of  his  cabin,  to  look  around  to  witness  the  effect  of 
his  achievement.  The  Indians  coughing,  sneezing, 
blinded  and  almost  suffocated  by  the  tobacco  dust, 
were  throwing  out  their  arms  and  groping  about  in 
all  directions,  cursing  him  for  a  rogue  and  calling 
themselves  fools/’ 


CHAPTER.  XI. 


Kentucky  organized  as  a  State. 


Peace  with  England. — Order  of  a  Kentucky  Court. — Anecdotes 
Speech  of  Mr.  Dalton. — Reply  of  Piankashaw,-— Renewed  Ie43 
cations  of  Indian  Hostility — Conventions  &t  Danville. — Eleap 
tacky  formed  into  a  State. — New  Trials  lor  Boone. 


The  close  of  the  war  of  the  Revolution,  bringing 
peace  between  the  colonies  and  the  mother  country, 
deprived  the  Indians  of  that  powerful  alliance  which 
had  made  them  truly  formidable.  Being  no  longer 
able  to  obtain  a  supply  of  ammunition  from  the 
British  arsenals,  or  to  be  guided  in  their  murderous 
raids  by  British  intelligence,  they  also,  through  their 
chiefs,  entered  into  treaties  of  peace  with  the  rapidly- 
increasing  emigrants. 

Though  these  treaties  with  the  Indians  prevented 
any  general  organization  of  the  tribes,  vagabond  In¬ 
dians,  entirely  lawless,  were  wandering  in  all  direc¬ 
tions,  ever  ready  to  perpetrate  any  outrage.  Civil 
society  has  its  highway  robbers,  burglars  and  mur¬ 
derers.  Much  more  so  was  this  the  case  among  these 
savages,  exasperated  by  many  wrongs ;  for  it  cannot 
be  denied  that  they  were  more  frequently  sinned 

(248) 


250 


DANIEL  BOONE 


against  than  sinning.  Their  untutored  natures  mad^ 
but  little  distinction  between  the  innocent  and  the 
guilty.  If  a  vagabond  white  man  wantonly  shot  an 
Indian — and  many  were  as  ready  to  do  it  as  to  shoot 
a  wolf — the  friends  of  the  murdered  Indian  would  take 
revenge  upon  the  inmates  of  the  first  white  man’s 
cabin  they  encountered  in  the  wilderness.  Thus  it 
was  necessary  for  the  pioneers  to  be  constantly  upon 
their  guard.  If  they  wandered  any  distance  from 
the  fort  while  hunting,  or  were  hoeing  in  the  held,  or 
ventured  to  rear  a  cabin  on  a  fertile  meadow  at  a  dis¬ 
tance  from  the  stations,  they  were  liable  to  be  startled 
at  any  hour  of  the  day  or  of  the  night  by  the  terrible 
war-whoop,  and  to  feel  the  weight  of  savage  vengeance. 

This  exposure  to  constant  peril  influenced  the  set¬ 
tlers,  as  a  general  rule,  to  establish  themselves  in 
stations.  This  gave  them  companionship,  the  benefits 
of  co-operative  labor,  and  security  against  any  small 
prowling  bands.  These  stations  were  formed  upon 
the  model  of  the  one  which  Daniel  Boone  had  so 
wisely  organized  at  Boonesborough.  They  consisted 
of  a  cluster  of  bullet-proof  log- cabins,  arranged  in  a 
quadrangular  form,  so  as  to  enclose  a  large  internal 
area.  All  the  doors  opened  upon  this  interior  space. 
Here  the  cattle  were  gathered  at  night.  The  inter¬ 
vals  between  the  cottages  were  filled  with  palisades, 
also  bullet-proof.  Loop-holes  through  the  logs 


KENTUCKY  AS  A  STATE. 


251 


enabled  these  riflemen  to  guard  every  approach  to 
their  fortress.  Thus  they  had  little  to  fear  from  the 
Indians  when  sheltered  by  these  strong  citadels. 

Emigration  to  Kentucky  began  very  rapidly  to 
increase.  Large  numbers  crossed  the  mountains  to 
Pittsburgh,  where  they  took  flat  boats  and  floated 
down  the  beautiful  Ohio,  la  belle  rivifre ,  until  they 
reached  such  points  on  its  southern  banks  as  pleased 
them  for  a  settlement,  or  from  which  they  could 
ascend  the  majestic  rivers  of  that  peerless  State. 
Comfortable  homesteads  were  fast  rising  in  all  direc¬ 
tions.  Horses,  cattle,  swine,  and  poultry  of  all  kinds 
were  multiplied.  Farming  utensils  began  to  make 
their  appearance.  The  hum  of  happy  industry  was 
heard  where  wolves  had  formerly  howled  and  buffalo 
ranged.  Merchandise  in  considerable  quantities  was 
transported  over  the  mountains  on  pack  horses,  and 
then  floated  down  the  Ohio  and  distributed  among 
the  settlements  upon  its  banks.  Country  stores  arose, 
land  speculators  appeared,  and  continental  paper 
money  became  a  circulating  medium.  This  money, 
however,  was  not  of  any  very  great  value,  as  may  be 
inferred  from  the  following  decree,  passed  by  one  of 
the  County  Courts,  establishing  the  schedule  of  prices 
for  tavern-keeping  : 

“  The  Court  doth  set  the  following  rates  to  be  ob¬ 
served  by  keepers  in  this  county  :  Whiskey,  fifteen 


25 2  DANIEL  BOONE. 

dollars  the  half-pint ;  rum,  ten  dollars  the  galkm  ;  $ 
meal,  twelve  dollars  ;  stabling  or  pasturage,  four 

dollars  the  night. 

Under  these  changed  circumstances,  Colonel  Boone* 
whose  intrepidity  nothing  could  daunt,  and  whose 
confidence  in  the  protective  power  of  his  rifle  was 
unbounded,  had  reared  for  himself,  on  one  of  the 
beautiful  meadows  of  the  Kentucky,  a  commodious 
home.  He  had  selected  a  spot  wdiose  fertility  and 
loveliness  pleased  his  artistic  eye. 

It  is  estimated  that  during  the  years  1783  and  1784 
nearly  twelve  thousand  persons  emigrated  to  Ken¬ 
tucky.  Still  all  these  had  to  move  with  great  caution, 
with  rifles  always  loaded,  and  ever  on  the  alert  against 
surprise.  The  following  incident  will  give  the  reader 
an  idea  of  the  perils  and  wuid  adventures  encountered 
by  these  parties  in  their  search  for  new  and  distant 
homes. 

Colonel  Thomas  Marshall,  a  man  of  much  note, 
crossed  the  Alleghanies  with  his  large  family.  At 
Pittsburgh  he  purchased  a  flat-boat,  and  was  floating 
down  the  Ohio.  He  had  passed  the  mouth  of  the 
Kanawha  River  without  any  incident  of  note  occurring. 
About  ten  o’clock  one  night,  as  his  boat  had  drifted 
near  the  northern  shore  of  the  solitary  stream,  he  was 
hailed  by  a  man  upon  the  bank,  who,  after  inquiring 
who  he  was,  where  he  was  bound,  etc.,  added  : 


KENTUCKY  AS  A  STATE, 


m 


M I  have  been  posted  here  by  order  of  my  brother,, 
Simon  Gerty,  to  warn  all  boats  of  the  danger  of  per¬ 
mitting  themselves  to  be  decoyed  ashore.  My  brother 
regrets  very  deeply  the  injury  he  has  inflicted  upon 
the  white  men,  and  to  convince  them  of  the  sincerity 
of  his  repentance,  and  of  his  earnest  desire  to  be  re¬ 
stored  to  their  society,  he  has  stationed  me  here  to 
warn  all  boats  of  the  snares  which  are  spread  for  them 
by  the  cunning  of  the  Indians.  Renegade  white  men 
will  be  placed  upon  the  banks,  who  will  represent 
themselves  as  in  the  greatest  distress.  Even  children 
taken  captive  will  be  compelled,  by  threats  of  torture, 
to  declare  that  they  are  all  alone  upon  the  shore,  and 
to  entreat  the  boats  to  come  and  rescue  them. 

“  But  keep  in  the  middle  of  the  river,”  said  Gerty, 
u  and  steel  your  heart  against  any  supplications  you 
may  hear.” 

The  Colonel  thanked  him  for  his  warning,  and  con¬ 
tinued  to  float  down  the  rapid  current  of  the  stream, 

Virginia  had  passed  a  law  establishing  the  town  of 
Louisville,  at  the  Falls  of  the  Ohio.  A  very  thriw 
ing  settlement  soon  sprang  up  there. 

The  nature  of  the  warfare  still  continuing  between 
the  whites  and  the  Indians  may  be  inferred  from  the 
following  narrative,  which  we  give  in  the  words  of 
Colonel  Boone  : 

“  The  Indians  continued  to  practice  mischief  secretly 
22 


2S4 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


upon  the  inhabitants  in  the  exposed  part  of  tha 
country.  In  October  a  party  made  an  incursion  into 
a  district  called  Crab  Orchard.  One  of  these  Indians 
having  advanced  some  distance  before  the  other?, 
boldly  entered  the  house  of  a  poor  defenseless  family, 
in  which  was  only  a  negro  man,  a  woman  and  her 
children,  terrified  with  apprehensions  of  immediate 
death.  The  savage,  perceiving  their  defenseless  con¬ 
dition,  without  offering  violence  to  the  family, 
attempted  to  capture  the  negro,  who  happily  proved 
an  over-match  for  him,  and  threw  the  Indian  on  the 
ground. 

M  In  the  struggle,  the  mother  of  the  children  drew  an 
axe  from  the  corner  of  the  cottage  and  cut  off  the 
head  of  the  Indian,  while  her  little  daughter  shut  the 
door.  The  savages  soon  appeared,  and  applied  their 
tomahawks  to  the  door.  An  old  rusty  gun-barrel, 
without  a  lock,  lay  in  the  corner,  which  the  mother 
put  through  a  small  crevice,  and  the  savages  per¬ 
ceiving  it,  fled.  In  the  meantime  the  alarm  spread 
through  the  neighborhood  ;  the  armed  men  collected 
immediately  and  pursued  the  savages  into  the  wilder¬ 
ness.  Thus  Providence,  by  means  of  this  negro^ 
&aved  the  whole  of  the  poor  family  from  destruction.* 

The  heroism  of  Mrs.  Merrill  is  worthy  of  being 
perpetuated,  not  only  as  a  wonderful  achievement,  but 
as  illustrative  of  the  nature  of  this  dreadful  warfare 


KENTUCKY  AS  A  STATE. 


255 


Mr.  Merrill,  with  his  wife,  little  son  and  daughter, 
occupied  a  remote  cabin  in  Nelson  County,  Kentucky. 
On  the  24th  of  December,  1791,  he  was  alarmed  by  the 
barking  of  his  dog.  Opening  the  door  to  ascertain  the 
cause,  he  was  instantly  fired  upon  by  seven  or  eight 
Indians  who  had  crept  near  the  house  secreting  them¬ 
selves  behind  stumps  and  trees.  Two  bullets  struck 
him,  fracturing  the  bones  both  of  his  leg  and  of  has 
arm.  The  savages,  with  hideous  yells,  then  rushed  for 
the  door. 

Mrs.  Merrill  had  but  just  time  to  close  and  bolt  it 
when  the  savages  plunged  against  it  and  hewed  it 
with  their  tomahawks.  Every  dwelling  was  at  that 
time  a  fortress  whose  log  walls  were  bullet  proof. 
But  for  the  terrible  wounds  which  Mr.  Merrill  had 
received,  he  would  with  his  rifle  shooting  through  loop 
holes,  soon  have  put  the  savages  to  flight.  They, 
emboldened  by  the  supposition  that  he  was  killed,  cut 
away  at  the  door  till  they  had  opened  a  hole  suffi¬ 
ciently  large  to  crawl  through.  One  of  the  savages 
attempted  to  enter.  He  had  got  nearly  in  when  Mrs. 
Merrill  cleft  his  skull  with  an  ax,  and  he  fell  lifeless 
upon  the  floor.  Another,  supposing  that  he  had  safely 
effected  an  entrance,  followed  him  and  encountered 
the  same  fate.  Four  more  of  the  savages  were  in  this 
vay  despatched,  when  the  others,  suspecting  that  all 
yas  not  right,  climbed  upor  the  roof  and  two  of  them 


2S  6 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


endeavored  to  descend  through  the  chimney.  The 
noise  they  made  directed  the  attention  of  the  inmates 
of  the  cabin  to  the  new  danger. 

There  was  a  gentle  fire  burning  upon  the  hearth, 
Mr.  Merrill,  with  much  presence  of  mind,  directed  hia 
son,  while  his  wife  guarded  the  opening  of  the  door 
with  her  ax,  to  empty  the  contents  of  a  feather  bed 
upon  the  fire.  The  dense  smothering  smoke  filled  the 
flue  of  the  chimney.  The  two  savages,  suffocated  with 
the  fumes,  after  a  few  convulsive  efforts  to  ascend  fell 
almost  insensible  down  upon  the  hearth.  Mr.  Merrill, 
seizing  with  his  unbroken  arm  a  billet  of  wood,  des» 
patched  them  both.  But  one  of  the  Indians  now 
remained.  Peering  in  at  the  opening  in  the  door  he 
received  a  blow  from  the  ax  of  Mrs.  Merrill  which 
severely  wounded  him.  Bleeding  and  disheartened  he 
fled  alone  into  the  wilderness,  the  only  one  of  the  eight 
who  survived  the  conflict 

A  white  man  who  was  at  that  time  a  prisoner 
among  the  Indians  and  who  subsequently  effected  his 
escape,  reported  that  when  the  wounded  savage 
reached  his  tribe  he  said  to  the  white  captive  in 
broken  English  : 

44 1  have  bad  news  for  the  poor  Indian.  Me  lose  a 
son  me  lose  a  broder.  The  squaws  have  taken  the 
breech  clout,  and  fight  worse  than  the  long  knives.” 

But  the  Indians  were  not  always  the  aggressors. 


KENTUCKY  AS  A  STATE. 


257 


Indeed  it  is  doubtful  whether  they  would  ever  have 
raised  the  war-whoop  against  the  white  man,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  outrages  they  were  so  constantly  ex¬ 
periencing  from  unprincipled  and  vagabond  adven¬ 
turers,  who  were  ever  infesting  the  frontiers.  The 
following  incident  illustrates  the  character  and  conduct 
of  these  miscreants : 

A  party  of  Indian  hunters  from  the  South  wandering 
through  their  ancient  hunting  grounds  of  Kentucky, 
accidentally  came  upon  a  settlement  where  they  found 
several  horses  grazing  in  the  field.  They  stole  the 
horses,  and  commenced  a  rapid  retreat  to  their  own 
country.  Three  young  men,  Davis,  Caffre  and 
McClure,  pursued  them.  Not  being  able  to  overtake 
the  fugitives,  they  decided  to  make  reprisals  on  the 
first  Indians  they  should  encounter.  It  so  happened 
that  they  soon  met  three  Indian  hunters.  The  parties 
saluted  each  other  in  a  friendly  manner,  and  proceeded 
on  their  way  in  pleasant  companionship. 

The  young  men  said  that  they  observed  the  Indians 
conversing  with  one  another  in  low  tones  of  voice,  and 
thus  they  became  convinced  that  the  savages  medi¬ 
tated  treachery.  Resolving  to  anticipate  the  Indians’ 
attack,  they  formed  the  following  plan.  While 
walking  together  in  friendly  conversation,  the  Indians 
being  entirely  off  their  guard,  Caffre,  who  was  a  very 
powerful  man,  was  to  spring  upon  the  lightest  of  the 


25  8 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


Indians,  crush  him  to  the  ground,  and  thus  take  him 
a  prisoner.  At  the  same  instant,  Davis  and  McClure 
were  each  to  shoot  one  of  the  other  Indians,  who, 
being  thus  taken  by  surprise,  could  offer  no  resistance. 

The  signal  was  given.  Caflre  sprang  upon  his 
victim  and  bore  him  to  the  ground.  McClure  shot 
his  man  dead.  Davis’  gun  flashed  in  the  pan.  The 
Indian  thus  narrowly  escaping  death  immediately 
aimed  his  gun  at  Caflre,  who  was  struggling  with  the 
one  he  had  grappled,  and  instantly  killed  him.  Mc¬ 
Clure  in  his  turn  shot  the  Indian.  There  was  now  one 
Indian  and  two  white  men.  But  the  Indian  had  the 
loaded  rifle.  McClure’s  was  discharged  and  Davis’ 
missed  fire.  The  Indian,  springing  from  the  grasp  of 
his  dying  antagonist,  presented  his  rifle  at  Davis,  who 
immediately  fled,  hotly  pursued  by  the  Indian.  Mc¬ 
Clure,  stopping  only  to  reload  his  gun,  followed  after 
them.  Soon  he  lost  sight  of  both.  Davis  was  never 
heard  of  afterwards.  Doubtless  he  was  shot  by  the 
avenging  Indian,  who  returned  to  his  wigwam  with 
the  white  man’s  scalp. 

McClure,  after  this  bloody  fray,  being  left  alone  in 
the  wilderness,  commenced  a  return  to  his  distant 
home.  He  had  not  proceeded  far  before  he  met  an 
Indian  on  horseback  accompanied  by  a  boy  on  foot 
The  warrior  dismounted,  and  in  token  of  peace  offered 
McClure  his  pipe  As  they  were  seated  together  upon 


KENTUCKY  AS  A  STATE. 


^59 


a  log,  conversing,  McClure  said  that  the  Indian  in¬ 
formed  him  by  signs  that  there  were  other  Indians  in 
the  distance  who  would  soon  come  up,  and  that  then 
they  should  take  him  captive,  tie  his  feet  beneath  tha 
horse’s  belly  and  carry  him  off  to  their  village 
McClure  seized  his  gun,  shot  the  Indian  through  the 
heart,  and  plunging  into  the  forest,  effected  his  escape. 

About  this  same  time  Captain  James  Ward,  with  a 
party  of  half  a  dozen  white  men,  one  of  whom  was  hie 
nephew,  and  a  number  of  horses,  was  floating  dowr 
the  Ohio  River  from  Pittsburgh.  They  were  in  * 
flat  boat  about  forty-five  feet  long  and  eight  feet  wide 
The  gunwale  of  the  boat  consisted  of  but  a  single  pine 
plank.  It  was  beautiful  weather,  and  for  several  days 
they  were  swept  along  by  the  tranquil  stream,  now 
borne  by  the  changing  current  towards  the  one  shore, 
and  now  towards  the  other.  One  morning  when  they 
had  been  swept  by  the  stream  within  about  one 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  of  the  northern  shore,  suddenly 
several  hundred  Indians  appeared  upon  the  bank,  and 
uttering  savage  yells  opened  upon  them  a  terrible 
fire. 

Captain  Wards  nephew,  pierced  by  a  ball  in  the 
breast,  fell  dead  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat.  Every 
horse  was  struck  by  a  bullet.  Some  were  instantly 
killed  ;  others,  severely  wounded,  struggled  so  violently 
»s  to  cause  the  frail  bark  to  dip  water,  threatening 


26o 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


immediate  destruction.  All  the  crew  except  Captain 
Ward  were  so  panic-stricken  by  this  sudden  assault, 
that  they  threw  themselves  flat  upon  their  faces  in  the 
bottom  of  the  boat,  and  attempted  no  resistance  where 
even  the  exposure  of  a  hand  would  be  the  target  for 
a  hundred  rifles. 

Fortunately  Captain  Ward  was  protected  from  this 
shower  of  bullets  by  a  post,  which  for  some  purpose 
had  been  fastened  to  the  gunwale.  He  therefore 
retained  his  position  at  the  helm,  which  was  an  oar, 
striving  to  guide  the  boat  to  the  other  side  of  the 
river.  As  the  assailants  had  no  canoes,  they  could 
not  attempt  to  board,  but  for  more  than  an  hour  they 
ran  along  the  banks  yelling  and  keeping  up  an  almost 
constant  fire.  At  length  the  boat  was  swept  to  the 
other  side  of  the  stream,  when  the  miscreants  aban¬ 
doned  the  pursuit,  and  disappeared. 

Quite  a  large  party  of  emigrants  were  attacked  by 
the  Indians  near  what  is  now  called  Scagg’s  Creek, 
and  six  were  instantly  killed.  A  Mrs.  McClure, 
delirious  with  terror,  fled  she  knew  not  where,  fol¬ 
lowed  by  her  three  little  children  and  carrying  a  little 
babe  in  her  arms.  The  cries  of  the  babe  guided  the 
pursuit  of  the  Indians.  They  cruelly  tomahawked 
the  three  oldest  children,  and  took  the  mother  and 
the  babe  as  captives.  Fortunately  the  tidings  of  this 
outrage  speedily  reached  one  of  the  settlements. 


KENTUCKY  AS  A  STATE.  26 1 

Captain  Whitley  immediately  started  in  pursuit  of  the 
gang.  He  overtook  them,  killed  two,  wounded  two, 
and  rescued  the  captives.  Such  were  the  scenes 
enacted  during  a  period  of  nominal  peace  with  the 
Indians. 

There  has  been  transmitted  to  us  a  very  curious 
document,  giving  an  account  of  a  speech  made  by 
Mr.  Dalton,  a  Government  agent,  to  a  council  of 
Indian  chiefs,  upon  the  announcement  of  peace  with 
Great  Britain,  and  their  reply.  Mr.  Dalton  said: 

“My  Children, — What  I  have  often  told  you  is 
now  come  to  pass.  This  day  I  received  news  from 
my  great  chief  at  the  Falls  of  the  Ohio.  Peace  is 
made  with  the  enemies  of  America.  The  white  flesh, 
the  Americans,  French,  and  Spanish,  this  day  smoked 
out  of  the  peace-pipe.  The  tomahawk  is  buried,  and 
they  are  now  friends.  I  am  told  the  Shawanese,  the 
Delawares,  Chickasaws,  Cherokees,  and  all  other  red 
flesh,  have  taken  the  Long  Knife  by  the  hand.  They 
have  given  up  to  them  the  prisoners  that  were  in  their 
hands. 

“My  children  on  the  Wabash,  open  your  ears  and 
let  what  I  tell  you  sink  into  your  hearts.  You  know 
me.  Near  twenty  years  I  have  been  among  you. 
The  Long  Knife  is  my  nation.  I  know  their  hearts. 
Peace  they  carry  in  one  hand  and  war  in  the  other. 
I  leave  you  to  yourselves  to  judge.  Consider  and 


262 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


now  accept  the  one  or  the  other.  We  never  beg 
peace  of  our  enemies.  If  you  love  your  women  and 
children,  receive  the  belt  of  wampum  I  present  you. 
Return  me  my  flesh  you  have  in  your  villages,  and 
the  horses  you  stole  from  my  people  in  Kentucky. 
Your  corn-fields  were  never  disturbed  by  the  Long 
Knife.  Your  women  and  children  lived  quiet  in  their 
houses,  while  your  warriors  were  killing  and  robbing 
ny  people.  All  this  you  know  is  the  truth. 

“  This  is  the  last  time  I  shall  speak  to  you.  I  have 
waited  six  moons  to  hear  you  speak  and  to  get  my 
people  from  you.  In  ten  nights  I  shall  leave  the 
Wabash  to  see  my  great  chief  at  the  Falls  of  the 
Ohio,  where  he  will  be  glad  to  hear  from  your  own 
lips  what  you  have  to  say.  Here  is  tobacco  I  give 
you.  Smoke  and  consider  what  I  have  said.” 

Mr.  Dalton  then  presented  Piankashaw,  the  chief 
of  the  leading  tribe,  with  a  belt  of  blue  and  white 
wampum.  Piankashaw  received  the  emblem  of  peace 
with  much  dignity,  and  replied  : 

“My  Great  Father  the  Long  Knife, — You 
have  been  many  years  among  us.  You  have  suffered  by 
us.  We  still  hope  you  will  have  pity  and  compassion 
upon  us,  on  our  women  and  children.  The  sun  shines  on 
us,  and  the  good  news  of  peace  appears  in  our  faces. 
This  is  the  day  of  joy  to  the  Wabash  Indians.  With  on« 
tongue  we  now  speak.  We  accept  your  peace-belt. 


KENTUCKY  AS  A  STATE. 


263 


*  We  received  the  tomahawk  from  the  English, 
Poverty  forced  us  to  it.  We  were  followed  by  other 
tribes.  We  are  sorry  for  it.  To-day  we  collect  the 
scattered  bones  of  our  friends  and  bury  them  in  one 
grave.  We  thus  plant  the  tree  of  peace,  that  God 
may  spread  its  branches  so  that  we  can  all  be  secured 
from  bad  weather.  Here  is  the  pipe  that  gives  us 
joy.  Smoke  out  of  it  Our  warriors  are  glad  you 
are  the  man  we  present  it  to.  We  have  buried  the 
tomahawk,  have  formed  friendship  never  to  be 
broken,  and  now  we  smoke  out  of  your  pipe. 

“My  father,  we  know  that  the  Great  Spirit  was 
angry  with  us  for  stealing  your  horses  and  attacking 
your  people.  He  has  sent  us  so  much  snow  and  cold 
weather  as  to  kill  your  horses  with  our  own.  We  are 
a  poor  people.  We  hope  God  will  help  us,  and  that 
the  Long  Knife  will  have  compassion  on  our  women 
and  children.  Your  people  who  are  with  us  are  well. 
We  shall  collect  them  when  they  come  in  from  hunt¬ 
ing.  All  the  prisoners  taken  in  Kentucky  are  alive. 
We  love  them,  and  so  do  our  young  women.  Some 
of  your  people  mend  our  guns,  and  others  tell  us  they 
can  make  rum  out  of  corn.  They  are  now  the  same 
as  we.  In  one  moon  .after  this  we  will  take  them 
back  to  their  friends  in  Kentucky. 

“  My  father,  this  being  the  day  of  joy  to  the  Wa¬ 
bash  Indians,  we  beg  a  little  drop  of  your  milk  to  let 


264 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


our  warriors  see  that  it  came  from  your  own  breast. 
We  were  born  and  raised  in  the  woods.  We  could 
never  learn  to  make  rum.  God  has  made  the  white 
men  masters  of  the  world/’ 

Having  finished  his  speech,  Piankashaw  presented 
Mr.  Dalton  with  three  strings  of  blue  and  white 
wampum  as  the  seal  of  peace.  All  must  observe  the 
strain  of  despondency  which  pervades  this  address, 
and  it  is  melancholy  to  notice  the  imploring  tones 
with  which  the  chief  asks  for  rum,  the  greatest  curse 
which  ever  afflicted  his  people. 

The  incessant  petty  warfare  waged  between  vagrant 
bands  of  the  whites  and  the  Indians,  with  the  outrages 
perpetrated  on  either  side,  created  great  exasperation. 
In  the  year  1784  there  were  many  indications  that 
the  Indians  were  again  about  to  combine  in  an  attack 
upon  the  settlements.  These  stations  were  widely 
scattered,  greatly  exposed,  and  there  were  many  of 
them.  It  was  impossible  for  the  pioneers  to  rally 
in  sufficient  strength  to  protect  every  position.  The 
savages,  emerging  unexpectedly  from  the  wilderness, 
could  select  their  own  point  of  attack,  and  could  thus 
cause  a  vast  amount  of  loss  and  misery.  For  a  long 
time  it  had  been  unsafe  for  any  individual,  or  even 
small  parties,  unless  very  thoroughly  armed,  to  wan¬ 
der  beyond  the  protection  of  the  forts.  Under  these 
circumstances,  a  convention  was  held  of  the  leading 


KENTUCKY  AS  A  STATE.  265 

men  of  Kentucky  at  the  Danville  Station,  to  decide 
what  measures  to  adopt  in  view  of  the  threatened 
invasion.  It  was  quite  certain  that  the  movement  of 
the  savages  would  be  so  sudden  and  impetuous  that 
the  settlers  would  be  compelled  to  rely  mainly  upon 
their  own  resources. 

The  great  State  of  Virginia,  of  which  Kentucky 
was  but  a  frontier  portion,  had  become  rich  and  pow¬ 
erful.  But  many  weary  leagues  intervened,  leading 
through  forests  and  over  craggy  mountains,  between 
the  plains  of  these  distant  counties  and  Richmond, 
the  capital  of  Virginia.  The  convention  at  Danville 
discussed  the  question  whether  it  were  not  safer  for 
them  to  anticipate  the  Indians,  and  immediately  to 
send  an  army  for  the  destruction  of  their  towns  and 
crops  north  of  the  Ohio.  But  here  they  were  embar¬ 
rassed  by  the  consideration  that  they  had  no  legal 
power  to  make  this  movement,  and  that  the  whole 
question,  momentous  as  it  was  and  demanding  im¬ 
mediate  action,  must  be  referred  to  the  State  Govern¬ 
ment,  far  away  beyond  the  mountains.  This  involved 
long  delay,  and  it  could  hardly  be  expected  that  the 
members  of  the  General  Court  in  their  peaceful  homes 
would  fully  sympathize  with  the  unprotected  settlers 
in  their  exposure  to  the  tomahawk  and  the  scalping 
knife. 

Several  conventions  were  held,  and  the  question 
23 


266 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


was  earnestly  discussed  whether  the  interests  of 
Kentucky  did  not  require  her  separation  from  the 
Government  of  Virginia,  and  her  organization  as  a 
self-governing  State.  The  men  who  had  boldly  ven¬ 
tured  to  seek  new  homes  so  far  beyond  the  limits  of 
civilization  were  generally  men  of  great  force  of 
character  and  of  political  foresight.  They  had  just 
emerged  from  the  war  of  the  Revolution,  during 
which  all  the  most  important  questions  of  civil  polity 
had  been  thoroughly  canvassed.  Their  meetings 
were  conducted  with  great  dignity  and  calm  deliber¬ 
ation. 

On  the  twenty-third  of  May,  1785,  the  convention 
at  Danville  passed  the  resolve  with  great  unanimity 
that  Kentucky  ought  to  be  separated  from  Virginia, 
and  received  into  the  American  Union,  upon  the  same 
basis  as  the  other  States.  Still  that  they  might  not 
act  upon  a  question  of  so  much  importance  without 
due  deliberation,  they  referred  the  subject  to  another 
convention  to  be  assembled  at  Danville  in  August 
This  convention  reiterated  the  resolution  of  its  prede¬ 
cessor  ;  issued  a  proclamation  urging  the  people  every- 
where  to  organise  for  defence  against  the  Indians,  and 
appointed  a  delegation  of  two  members  to  proceed  to 
Richmond,  and  present  their  request  for  a  separation 
to  the  authorities  there. 

*  The  Legislature  of  Virginia  was  composed  of  men 


KENTUCKY  AS  A  STATE.  2 6? 

too  wise  not  to  see  that  separation  was  inevitable. 
Separated  from  the  parent  State  by  distance  and  by 
difficulties  of  communication,  in  those  days  most  for¬ 
midable,  they  saw  that  Kentuckians  would  not  long 
submit  to  be  ruled  by  those  whose  power  was  so  far 
removed  as  to  surround  every  approach  to  it  with  the 
greatest  embarrassment  It  was,  without  its  wrongs, 
and  tyranny  and  misgovernment,  the  repetition  of  the 
circumstances  of  the  Crown  and  Colonies  ;  and  with 
good  judgment,  and  as  the  beautiful  language  of  the 
Danville  convention  expressed  it,  with  sole  intent  to 
bless  its  people,  they  agreed  to  a  dismemberment  of 
its  part,  to  secure  the  happiness  of  the  whole/'  * 

It  is  not  important  here  to  enter  into  a  detail  of  the 
various  discussions  which  ensued.  It  is  sufficient  to 
say  that  the  communication  from  Kentucky  to  the 
Legislature  of  Virginia  was  referred  to  the  illustrious 
John  Marshall,  then  at  the  commencement  of  his 
distinguished  career.  He  gave  to  the  request  of  the 
petitioners  his  own  strong  advocacy.  The  result  was, 
that  a  decree  was  passed  after  tedious  delays,  au¬ 
thorising  the  formal  separation  of  Kentucky  from 
Virginia.  On  the  fourth  of  February,  1791,  the  new 
State,  by  earnest  recommendation  of  George  Wash¬ 
ington,  was  admitted  into  the  American  Union. 


•  Daniel  Bow*,  by  W.  H.  Bogart, 


268 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


It  does  not  appear  that  Colonel  Boone  was  a 
member  of  any  of  these  conventions.  He  had  no  taste 
for  the  struggles  in  political  assemblies.  He  dreaded 
indeed  the  speculator,  the  land  jobber,  and  the  intri¬ 
cate  decisions  of  courts,  more  than  the  tomahawk  of 
the  Indian.  And  he  knew  full  well  that  should  the 
hour  of  action  come,  he  would  be  one  of  the  first  to  be 
summoned  to  the  field.  While  therefore  others  of  the 
early  pioneers  were  engaged  in  these  important  deli¬ 
berations,  he  was  quietly  pursuing  those  occupations, 
congenial  to  his  tastes,  of  cultivating  the  farm,  or  in 
hunting  game  in  the  solitude  of  the  forests.  His 
humble  cabin  stood  upon  the  banks  of  the  Kentucky 
River,  not  far  from  the  station  at  Boonesborough. 
And  thoroughly  acquainted  as  he  was  with  the  habits 
of  the  Indians,  he  felt  quite  able,  in  his  bullet-proof 
citadel,  to  protect  himself  from  any  marauding  bands 
which  might  venture  to  show  themselves  so  near  the 
fort. 

It  seems  to  be  the  lot  of  humanity  that  life  should 
be  composed  of  a  series  of  storms,  rising  one  after 
another.  In  the  palace  and  in  the  cottage,  in  ancient 
days  and  at  the  present  time,  we  find  the  sweep  of  the 
inexorable  law  that  man  is  born  to  mourn. 

“Sorrow  is  for  the  sons  of  men, 

And  weeping  for  earth’s  daughters.” 

The  cloud  of  menaced  Indian  invasion  had  passed 


KENTUCKY  AS  A  STATE.  269 

away,  when  suddenly  the  sheriff  appears  in  Boone’s 
little  cabin,  and  informs  him  that  his  title  to  his  land  is 
disputed,  and  that  legal  proceedings  were  commenced 
against  him.  Boone  could  not  comprehend  this.  Ken¬ 
tucky  he  regarded  almost  his  own  by  the  right  of  his 
discovery.  He  had  led  the  way  there.  He  had  estab¬ 
lished  himself  and  family  in  the  land,  and  had  defend¬ 
ed  it  from  the  incursions  of  the  Indians.  And  now, 
in  his  advancing  years,  to  be  driven  from  the  few 
acres  he  had  selected  and  to  which  he  supposed  he  had 
a  perfect  title,  seemed  to  him  very  unjust  indeed.  He 
could  not  recognise  any  right  in  what  seemed  to  him 
but  the  quibbles  of  the  lawyers.  In  his  autobiography 
he  wrote  in  reference  to  his  many  painful  adventures : 

“My  footsteps  have  often  been  marked  with  blood. 
Two  darling  sons  and  a  brother  have  I  lost  by  savage 
hands,  which  have  also  taken  from  me  forty  valuable 
horses  and  abundance  of  cattle.  Many  dark  and 
sleepless  nights  have  I  been  a  companion  for  owls,  se¬ 
parated  from  the  cheerful  society  of  men,  scorched  by 
the  summer’s  sun,  and  pinched  by  the  winter’s  cold, 
an  instrument  ordained  to  settle  the  wilderness.” 

Agitated  by  the  thought  of  the  loss  of  his  farm  and 
deeply  wounded  in  his  feelings,  as  though  a  great 
wrong  had  been  inflicted  upon  him,  Boone  addressed 
an  earnest  memorial  to  the  Legislature  of  Kentucky. 
In  this  he  stated  that  immediately  after  the  troubles 


2^0 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


with  the  Indians  had  ceased,  he  located  himself  upon 
lands  to  which  he  supposed  he  had  a  perfect  title ; 
that  he  reared  his  house  and  commenced  cultivating 
his  fields.  And  after  briefly  enumerating  the  sacri¬ 
fices  he  had  made  in  exploring,  settling  and  defend¬ 
ing  Kentucky,  he  said  he  could  not  understand  the 
justice  of  making  a  set  of  complicated  forms  of  law, 
superior  to  his  actual  occupancy  of  the  land  selected, 
as  he  believed  when  and  where  it  was,  it  was  his  un¬ 
questioned  right  to  do  so. 

But  the  lawyers  and  the  land  speculators  were  too 
shrewd  for  the  pioneer.  Colonel  Boone  was  sued ; 
the  question  went  to  the  courts  which  he  detested,  and 
Boone  lost  his  farm.  It  was  indeed  a  very  hard  case. 
He  had  penetrated  the  country  when  no  other  white 
man  trod  its  soil.  He  discovered  its  wonderful 
resources,  and  proclaimed  them  to  the  world.  He 
had  guided  settlers  into  the  region,  and  by  his  sagacity 
and  courage,  had  provided  for  their  wants  and  protec¬ 
ted  them  from  the  savage.  And  now  in  his  declining 
years  he  found  himself  driven  from  his  farm,  robbed 
of  every  acre,  a  houseless,  homeless,  impoverished  man* 
The  deed  was  so  cruel  that  thousands  since,  in  reading 
the  recital,  have  been  agitated  by  the  strongest 
emotions  of  indignation  and  grief. 


CHAPTER  XII 


Adventures  Romantic  and  Perilous, 


tlm  Search  for  the  Horse. — Navigating  the  Ohio. — Heroism  of  Mr& 
XSowan. — Lawless  Gangs. — Exchange  of  Prisoners. — Boone  R®- 
visits  the  Home  of  his  Childhood. — The  Realms  beyond  the 
Mississippi. — Habits  of  the  Hunters. — Corn. — Boone’s  Journey  tc 
the  West. 

The  Indians  still  continued  hostile.  The  following 
incident  gives  one  an  idea  of  the  nature  of  the  conflict 
which  continued,  and  of  the  perils  which  were 
encountered. 

There  w’as  a  striving  station  where  a  few  set¬ 
tlers  were  collected,  at  a  spot  now  called  State 
Creek  Iron  Works.  One  or  two  farm-houses  were 
scattered  around,  but  at  such  a  short  distance  from 
the  fort  that  their  inmates  could  at  once  take  refuge 
behind  its  log  walls,  in  case  of  alarm.  In  the  month 
of  August,  1786,  a  young  man  residing  in  the  fort,  by 
the  name  of  Yates,  called  at  one  of  these  farm-houses 
and  requested  a  lad,  Francis  Downing,  to  accompany 
him  in  search  of  a  horse,  which  had  strayed  away# 
The  two  friends  set  out  together,  and  after  searching 
the  forest  in  vain,  found  themselves,  the  latter  part  o ( 

the  afternoon,  in  a  lonely  uninhabited  valley,  nearly 

(271) 


272 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


seven  miles  from  the  fort.  Here  young  Downing 
became  quite  alarmed  by  some  indications  that 
Indians  were  dogging  their  steps.  He  communicated 
his  fears  to  his  companion.  But  Yates,  who  was 
several  years  older  than  Downing,  was  an  expe¬ 
rienced  hunter  and  inured  to  life  in  the  woods,  had 
become  to  a  certain  degree  indifferent  to  danger. 
He  made  himself  quite  merry  over  his  young  com¬ 
panion’s  fears,  asking  him  at  what  price  he  was  willing 
to  sell  his  scalp,  and  offering  to  insure  it  for  sixpence. 

Still  Downing  was  not  satisfied,  and  his  alarm 
increased  as  he  insisted  that  he  occasionally  heard 
the  crack  of  dry  twigs  behind  them,  as  if  broken  by 
some  one  pursueing.  But  Yates  deriding  his  fears, 
pressed  on,  making  the  woods  resound  with  a  song,  to 
which  he  gave  utterance  from  unusually  full  and  strong 
lungs.  Downing  gradually  slackened  his  pace,  and 
when  Yates  was  some  thirty  yards  in  advance  of 
him,  sprang  into  a  dense  cluster  of  tall  whortleberry 
bushes,  where  he  was  effectually  concealed.  Scarcely 
had  he  done  this,  when  to  his  great  terror  he  saw 
two  Indians  peeping  cautiously  out  of  a  thick  cane- 
brake.  Deceived  by  the  song  of  Yates,  who  with 
stentorian  lungs  was  still  giving  forth  his  woodland 
ditty,  they  supposed  both  had  passed.  Young 
Downing  thought  it  impossible  but  that  the  savages 
must  have  seen  him  as  he  concealed  himself.  Greatly 


ADVENTURES. 


273 


alarmed  he  raised  his  gun,  intending  to  shoot  one  and 
to  trust  to  his  heels  for  escape  from  the  other. 

But  his  hand  was  so  unsteady  that  the  gun  went  off 
before  he  had  taken  aim.  Terror  stricken,  he  rushed 
along  the  path  Yates  had  trod.  Yates,  alarmed  by 
the  report  of  the  gun,  came  running  back.  As  they 
met,  the  two  Indians  were  seen  not  far  from  them  in 
hot  pursuit.  They  soon  could  easily  see  that  the 
enemy  was  gaining  upon  them.  In  their  rapid  flight 
they  came  to  a  deep  gulley  which  Yates  cleared  at  a 
bound,  but  young  Downing  failed  in  the  attempt. 
His  breast  struck  the  opposite  almost  precipitous 
bank,  and  he  rolled  to  the  bottom  of  the  ditch.  Some 
obstruction  in  the  way  prevented  the  Indians  from 
witnessing  the  fall  of  Downing.  They  continued  the 
pursuit  of  Yates,  crossing  the  gulley  a  few  yards 
below  where  Downing  had  met  his  mishap.  Thus  in 
less  time  than  we  have  occupied  in  the  narration,  the 
Indians  disappeared  in  their  chase  after  Yates. 

Downing  was  in  great  perplexity.  He  did  not  dare 
to  creep  out  of  the  gulley,  lest  he  should  be  seen,  and 
as  soon  as  the  Indians  should  perceive  that  he  was 
not  with  Yates,  as  they  inevitably  would  ere  long  do, 
they  would  know  that  he  was  left  behind,  and  would 
turn  back  for  his  capture.  Unfortunately  young 
Downing  had  so  far  lost  his  presence  of  mind,  that  he 
had  failed  to  reload  his  gun.  Just  then  he  saw  one  of 


274 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


the  savages  returning,  evidently  in  search  of  him. 
There  was  no  possible  resource  left  but  flight  Throw¬ 
ing  away  his  now  useless  gun,  he  rushed  into  ths 
forest  with  all  the  speed  which  terror  could  inspire. 
He  was  but  a  boy,  the  full-grown  Indian  gained 
rapidly  upon  him,  he  could  almost  strike  him  with  his 
tomahawk,  when  they  came  to  an  immense  tree, 
blown  up  by  the  roots.  The  boy  ran  on  one  side  oi 
the  trunk  and  the  Indian  on  the  other,  towards  the 
immense  pile  of  earth  which  adhered  to  the  upturned 
roots. 

The  boy  now  gave  up  all  hope  in  utter  despair.  It 
seemed  certain  that  the  brawny  Indian  would  get 
ahead  of  him  and  intercept  his  further  flight.  But  it  so 
happened— was  it  an  accident  or  was  it  a  Providence — 
that  a  she-bear  had  made  her  bed  directly  in  the 
path  which  the  Indian  with  almost  blind  eagerness 
was  pursuing.  Here  the  ferocious  beast  was  suckling 
her  cubs.  The  bear  sprang  from  her  lair,  and  instantly 
with  a  terrific  hug  grasped  the  savage  in  her  paws. 
The  Indian  gave  a  terrific  yell  and  plunged  his  knife 
again  and  again  into  the  body  of  the  bear.  The  boy 
had  but  one  brief  glance,  as  in  this  bloody  embrace 
they  rolled  over  and  over  on  the  ground.  The  boy, 
praying  that  the  bear  might  tear  the  Indian  in  pieces, 
added  new  speed  to  his  flight  and  reached  the  fort  is 
safety 


ADVENTURES. 


m 

There  he  found  Yates  who  had  arrived  but  a  few 
moments  before  him,  and  who  had  outrun  the  other 
Indiaiv  The  next  morning  a  well  armed  party  returned 
to  the  tree.  Both  the  bear  and  the  Indian  had 
disappeared.  Probably  both  had  suffered  very  severely 
in  the  conflict,  and  both  had  escaped  with  their  lives. 

Another  incident  illustrative  of  these  perilous  ad¬ 
ventures  in  the  now  peaceful  State  of  Kentucky.  Mr. 
Rowan,  with  his  own  and  five  other  families,  left  the 
little  hamlet  at  Louisville  to  float  down  the  Ohio  to 
Green  River,  and  to  ascend  that  stream,  intending  to 
rear  their  new  homes  on  its  fertile  and  delightful 
banks.  The  families  were  quite  comfortably  accom 
modated  in  a  large  flat-bottomed  boat.  Another 
boat  of  similar  construction  conveyed  their  cattle  and 
sundry  articles  of  household  furniture.  On  the  route 
which  they  were  pursuing,  there  were  then  no  settle¬ 
ments.  The  Ohio  river  and  the  Green  river  flowed 
through  unbroken  solitudes. 

The  flat  boats  had  floated  down  the  beautiful  Ohio, 
through  scenes  of  surpassing  loveliness,  about  one 
hundred  miles,  when  one  night  about  ten  o’clock  a 
prodigious  shouting  and  yelling  of  Indians  was  heard 
some  distance  farther  down  the  river  on  the  northern 
shore.  Very  soon  they  came  in  sight  of  their  camp¬ 
fires,  which  were  burning  very  brightly.  It  was 
evident  that  the  Indians  were  having  a  great  carousal 


2j6 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


rejoicing  over  some  victory.  Mr.  Rowan  immediately 
ordered  the  two  boats  to  be  lashed  firmly  together. 
There  were  but  seven  men  on  board  who  were  capable 
of  making  efficient  use  of  the  rifle.  Plying  the  oars 
as  vigorously  and  noiselessly  as  they  could,  they 
endeavored  to  keep  close  to  the  Kentucky  shore. 
And  yet  they  were  careful  not  to  approach  too  near, 
lest  there  might  be  Indians  there  also.  It  was  evi¬ 
dent  that  there  was  a  large  gathering  of  the  Indians 
on  the  northern  bank,  for  their  camp-fires  extended 
for  a  distance  of  nearly  half  a  mile  along  the  river. 

As  the  boats  floated  noiselessly  along  in  the  gloom 
of  the  night,  under  shadow  of  the  cliffs,  they  were  not 
detected  until  they  were  opposite  the  central  fire, 
whose  brilliancy  threw  a  flood  of  light  nearly  across 
the  stream.  A  simultaneous  shout  greeted  this  dis¬ 
covery,  and  with  terrific  yells  the  savages  rushed  to 
their  canoes  and  commenced  a  pursuit.  The  two  flat 
boats  rapidly  floated  beyond  the  illumination  of  the 
fires  into  the  region  of  midnight  darkness.  The 
timid  Indians,  well  acquainted  with  the  white  man’s 
unerring  aim,  pursued  cautiously,  though  their  hideous 
yells  resounded  along  the  shores. 

Mr.  Rowan  ordered  all  on  board  to  keep  perfect 
silence,  to  conceal  themselves  as  much  as  possible, 
and  ordered  not  a  gun  to  be  fired  till  the  Indians 
were  so  near  that  the  powder  of  the  gun  would  burn 


ADVENTURES. 


277 


them,  thus  rendering  every  shot  absolutely  certain. 
The  Indians,  with  their  hideous  yells,  pursued  in 
their  canoes  until  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the 
boats.  They  then  seemed  simultaneously  to  have 
adopted  the  conviction  that  the  better  part  of  valor 
was  discretion.  In  the  darkness,  they  could  not  see 
the  boatmen,  who  they  had  no  doubt  were  concealed 
behind  bullet-proof  bulwarks.  Their  birch  canoes 
presented  not  the  slightest  obstruction  to  the  passage 
of  a  rifle  ball.  Knowing  that  the  flash  of  a  gun  from 
the  boat  would  be  certain  death  to  some  one  of  their 
number,  and  that  thus  the  boatmen,  with  the  rapidity 
with  which  they  could  load  and  fire,  would  destroy  a 
large  part  of  their  company  before  they  could  hope 
to  capture  the  flat  boats,  they  hesitated  to  approach 
any  nearer,  but  followed  in  the  pursuit  for  nearly 
three  miles  down  the  river,  assailing  the  white  men 
only  with  harmless  yells. 

The  heroic  Mrs.  Rowan,  as  she  saw  the  canoes 
approaching,  supposing  that  the  savages  would  at¬ 
tempt  to  board  the  boats,  crept  quietly  around  in  the 
darkness,  collected  all  the  axes,  and  placed  one  by 
the  side  of  each  man,  leaning  the  handle  against  his 
knee.  While  performing  this  significant  act  she 
uttered  not  a  word,  but  returned  to  her  own  seat  in 
silence,  retaining  a  sharp  hatchet  for  herself. 

With  such  determined  spirits  to  assail,  it  was  well 

24 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


s/8 

for  the  savages  that  they  did  not  approach  withis 
arms-length  of  those  whom  they  were  pursuing.  They 
would  certainly  have  met  with  a  bloody  reception. 

The  savages  at  length,  despairing  of  success, 
t^linquished  the  pursuit  and  returned  to  their  de¬ 
moniac  orgies  around  their  camp-fires.  It  was  sup 
posed  that  they  had  captured  a  boat  which  was 
descending  the  river  the  day  before,  and  that  their 
extraordinary  revelry  was  accompanied  by  the  roast- 
Ing  of  their  captives.  A  son  of  Mr.  Rowan,  but  ten 
years  of  age,  who  subsequently  became  one  of  the 
most  distinguished  men  in  Kentucky,  was  present  on 
this  occasion.  He  frequently,  in  after-years,  alluded 
to  the  indescribable  sensations  of  sublimity  and  terror 
which  the  scene  inspired.  The  gloom  of  the  night ; 
the  solemn  flow  of  the  majestic  river;  the  dim  view  of 
the  forests  on  either  side ;  the  gleam  of  the  camp-fires 
of  the  Indians,  around  which  the  half-clad  savages 
were  dancing  in  hideous  contortions ;  the  unearthly 
yells  in  which  every  demoniac  passion  seemed  con¬ 
tending  for  the  mastery  ;  the  shout  which  was  given 
when  they  discovered  the  boats  beneath  the  shadows 
of  the  opposite  cliffs  ;  the  pursuit  of  the  canoes  with 
redoubled  vehemence  of  hooting ;  the  rapidity  with 
which,  with  brawny  arms,  they  paddled  their  boats 
to  and  fro ;  the  breathless  silence  which  pervaded 
the  flat  boat  while  for  more  than  an  hour  the  occis* 


ADVENTURES. 


pants  awaited,  momentarily  expecting  the  terrible 
onset ;  and  above  all,  the  fortitude  and  heroism  dis¬ 
played  by  his  mother, — all  these  combined  to  leave  an 
impression  upon  the  mind  of  the  boy  which  could 
never  be  obliterated.  Few  will  be  able  to  read  the 
record  of  this  adventure  without  emotion*  What  then 
must  it  have  been  to  have  experienced  it  in  bodily 
presence,  and  to  have  shared  in  all  its  terrible  dangers  ? 

As  we  have  before  said,  there  was  no  distinctly 
proclaimed  war,  at  this  time,  between  the  pioneers 
and  the  Indians.  While  lawless  men  on  both  sides 
were  committing  the  most  atrocious  outrages,  the 
chiefs  and  the  legitimate  authorities  were  nominally 
at  peace.  The  red  men,  whether  engaged  in  what 
they  deemed  lawful  warfare,  or  moving  in  plundering 
bands,  were  in  the  habit  of  inflicting  upon  their  cap¬ 
tives  the  most  dreadful  tortures  which  their  ingenuity 
could  devise.  The  white  men  could  not  retaliate  by 
the  perpetration  of  such  revolting  cruelty. 

It  probably  was  a  suggestion  of  Colonel  Boone 
that  a  council  might  be  held  with  the  Indian  chiefs, 
and  a  treaty  formed  by  which  prisoners  should  be 
exempted  from  torture  and  exchanged,  as  in  civilized 
warfare.  The  Indians  were  by  no  means  reckless  of 
the  lives  of  their  warriors,  and  would  probably  be 
very  ready  to  give  up  a  white  captive  if  by  so  doing 
they  could  receive  one  of  their  own  braves  in  return 


28o 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


A  council  was  held  at  a  station  where  Maysville  now 
stands.  Colonel  Boone  was  at  once  selected  as  the 
man  of  all  others  most  fit  to  take  part  in  these  deli¬ 
berations.  He  was  not  only  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  the  Indians,  their  habits,  their  modes  of  thought, 
and  the  motives  most  likely  to  influence  their  minds, 
but  his  own  peculiar  character  seemed  just  the  one 
calculated  to  inspire  them  with  admiration. 

The  principle  was  here  adopted  of  an  exchange  of 
prisoners,  which  notwithstanding  the  continued  vio¬ 
lence  of  the  lawless,  saved  the  lives  of  many  captives. 
It  is  an  interesting  fact,  illustrative  of  the  sagacity 
and  extraordinary  power  of  Colonel  Boone  over  the 
Indian  mind,  that  the  chiefs  with  one  consent  agreed 
in  grateful  commemoration  of  this  treaty,  that  if  any 
captive  should  hereafter  be  taken  by  them  from  Mays¬ 
ville,  that  captive  should  be  treated  with  every  possi¬ 
ble  degree  of  lenity.  And  it  is  worthy  of  record  that 
such  a  captive  was  subsequently  taken,  and  that  the 
Indians  with  the  most  scrupulous  fidelity  fulfilled 
their  pledge.  Indeed,  it  is  difficult  for  an  impartial 
historian  to  deny,  that  these  poor  savages,  ignorant 
and  cruel  as  they  were,  often  displayed  a  sense  of 

honor  which  we  do  not  so  often  find  in  their  oppo¬ 
nents.  It  is  to  be  feared  that  were  Indian  historians 
to  write  the  record  of  these  wars,  we  should  not  find 
that  they  were  always  in  the  wrong. 


ADVENTURES. 


28l 


Colonel  Boone,  ejected  from  his  lands  and  thus  left 
penniless,  felt  keenly  the  wrongs  which  were  inflicted 
upon  him.  He  knew  full  well  that  he  had  done  a 
thousand  times  more  for  Kentucky  than  any  other 
man  living  or  dead.  He  had  conferred  upon  the 
State  services  which  no  money  could  purchase. 
Though  to  his  intimate  friends  he  confided  his  suf¬ 
ferings,  he  was  too  proud  to  utter  loud  complaints. 
In  silence  he  endured.  But  Kentucky  had  ceased  to 
be  a  happy  home  for  him.  Over  all  its  broad  and 
beautiful  expanse  which  he  had  opened  to  the  world 
there  was  not  a  single  acre  which  he  could  call  his 
own.  And  he  had  no  money  with  which  to  purchase  a 
farm  of  those  speculators,  into  whose  hands  most  of 
the  lands  had  fallen.  Could  the  good  old  man  now 
rise  from  his  grave,  a  Kentucky  Legislature  would  not 
long  leave  him  landless.  There  is  scarcely  a  cabin  or 
a  mansion  in  the  whole  State,  where  Daniel  Boone 
would  not  meet  with  as  hospitable  a  reception  as 
grateful  hearts  could  give. 

As  a  grief-stricken  child  rushes  to  its  mother’s  arms 
for  solace,  so  it  is  natural  for  man,  when  world-weary 
and  struggling  with  adversity,  to  look  back  with 
longing  eyes  to  the  home  of  his  childhood.  The 
remembrance  of  its  sunny  days  animates  him,  and  its 
trivial  sadnesses  are  forgotten.  Thus  with  Daniel 
Boone  houseless  and  stung  by  ingratitude,  he  turned 


282 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


his  eyes  to  the  far  distant  home  of  his  childhood,  oa 
the  banks  of  the  Schuykill.  More  than  forty  years  of 
a  wonderfully  adventurous  life  had  passed,  since  he  a 
boy  of  fourteen  had  accompanied  his  father  in  his 
removal  from  Reading,  in  Berk’s  County,  to  North 
Carolina.  Still  the  remarkable  boy  had  left  traces 
behind  him  which  were  not  yet  obliterated. 

He  visited  Reading,  probably  influenced  by  a  faint 
hope  of  finding  there  a  home.  A  few  of  his  former 
acquaintances  were  living,  and  many  family  friends 
remained.  By  all  he  was  received  with  the  greatest 
kindness.  But  the  frontier  settlement  of  log  huts,  and 
the  majestic  surrounding  forests  filled  with  game,  had 
entirely  disappeared.  Highly  cultivated  farms,  from 
which  even  the  stumps  of  the  forest  had  perished,  ex¬ 
tended  in  all  directions.  Ambitious  mansions  adorned 
the  hillsides,  and  all  the  appliances  of  advancing  civil¬ 
ization  met  the  eye.  There  could  be  no  home  here  for 
Daniel  Boone.  Amid  these  strange  scenes  he  felt  as 
a  stranger,  and  his  heart  yearned  again  for  the  soli¬ 
tudes  of  the  forest  He  longed  to  get  beyond  the 
reach  of  lawyers’  offices,  and  court-houses,  and  land 
speculators. 

After  a  short  visit  he  bade  adieu  forever  to  his 
friends  upon  the  Schuykill,  and  turned  his  steps 
again  towards  the  setting  sun.  His  feelings  had  been 
too  deeply  wounded  to  allow  him  to  think  of  remain* 


ADVENTURES. 


ing  a  man  without  a  home  in  Kentucky.  Still  the 
idea  of  leaving  a  region  endeared  to  him  by  so  many 
memories  must  have  been  very  painful.  He  remem¬ 
bered  vividly  his  long  and  painful  journeys  over  tb« 
mountains,  through  the  wilderness  untrodden  by  the 
foot  of  the  white  man  ;  his  solitary  exploration  of  the 
new  Eden  which  he  seemed  to  have  found  there  ;  the 
glowing  accounts  he  had  carried  back  to  his  friends  of 
the  sunny  skies,  the  salubrious  clime,  the  fertile  soil, 
and  the  majesty  and  loveliness  of  the  landscape  ;  of 
mountain,  valley,  lake  and  river  which  Providence  had 
lavished  with  a  prodigal  hand  in  this  “  Garden  of  the 
Lord.” 

One  by  one  he  had  influenced  his  friends  to  emigrate, 
had  led  them  to  their  new  homes,  had  protected  them 
against  the  savages,  and  now  when  Kentucky  had 
become  a  prosperous  State  in  the  Union,  containing 
thirty  thousand  inhabitants,  he  wras  cast  aside,  and 
under  the  forms  of  law  was  robbed  of  the  few  acres 
which  he  had  cultivated  as  his  own.  His  life  embit¬ 
tered  by  these  reflections,  and  seeing  nothing  to 
attract  him  in  the  wild  and  unknown  regions  beyond 
the  Mississippi,  Colonel  Boone  turned  sadly  back  to 
Virginia. 

It  was  an  easy  task  for  him  to  remove.  In  such  an 
hour,  one  can  sometimes  well  say,  “  Blessed  be 
Nothing.”  A  few  pack-horses  were  sufficient  to  convey 


284 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


all  his  household  goods.  It  is  probable  that  his  wife 
and  children,  indignant  at  the  treatment  which  the 
husband  and  father  had  received,  were  glad  to  leave. 

This  was  doubtless  one  of  the  saddest  journeys 
that  Colonel  Boone  ever  undertook.  Traversing  an 
almost  pathless  wilderness  in  a  direction  a  little  north 
of  east  from  Boonesborough,  he  crossed  the  various 
speers  of  the  Alleghany  range,  supporting  his  family 
with  his  rifle  on  the  way,  until  after  passing  over  three 
hundred  miles  of  the  wilderness,  he  reached  the  mouth 
of  the  Kanawha  river,  as  that  stream,  flows  from 
Virginia  due  north,  and  empties  into  the  Ohio  river. 
Here  there  was  a  point  of  land  washed  by  the  Ohio 
on  the  north,  and  the  Great  Kanawha  on  the  west,  to 
which  the  appropriate  name  of  Point  Pleasant  had 
been  given.  It  does  not  appear  that  civilization  had 
as  yet  penetrated  this  region.  The  emigration  to  Ken¬ 
tucky  had  floated  by  it  down  the  river,  descending 
from  Pittsburg,  or  had  crossed  the  mountain  passes 
from  North  Carolina,  several  hundred  miles  to  the 
south. 

Colonel  Boone  was  now  fifty-five  years  of  age.  If 
there  were  any  settlement  at  the  time  at  Point  Pleasant, 
it  must  have  consisted  merely  of  a  few  log  huts.  Here 
at  all  events,  Colonel  Boone  found  the  solitude  and 
the  communion  with  nature  alone,  for  which  his  heart 
yearned.  The  world  might  call  him  poor,  and  still  he 


ADVENTURES. 


285 


was  rich  in  the  abundant  supply  of  all  his  earthly 
wants.  He  reared  his  log  hut  where  no  one  appeared 
to  dispute  his  claim.  The  fertile  soil  around,  a 
virgin  soil,  rich  with  undeveloped  treasures,  under  the 
simplest  culture  produced  abundantly,  and  the  forest 
around  supplied  him  daily  with  animal  food  more 
than  a  European  peasant  sees  in  a  year. 

Here  Colonel  Boone  and  his  family  remained  for 
several  years,  to  use  a  popular  phrase,  buried  from 
the  world.  His  life  was  mainly  that  of  a  hunter. 
Mr.  Peck,  speaking  of  the  habits  of  those  pioneers  who 
depended  mainly  upon  the  rifle  for  support,  writes: 

“I  have  often  seen  him  get  up  early  in  the  morning, 
walk  hastily  out,  and  look  anxiously  to  the  woods 
and  snuff  the  autumnal  winds  with  the  highest  rapture ; 
then  return  into  the  house  and  cast  a  quick  and 
attentive  look  at  the  rifle,  which  was  always  suspended 
to  a  joist  by  a  couple  of  buck-horns  or  little  forks. 
The  hunting  dog  understanding  the  intentions  of  his 
master,  would  wag  his  tail,  and  by  every  blandishment 
in  his  power,  express  his  readiness  to  accompany  him 
to  the  woods.” 

It  probably  did  not  diminish  Colonel  Boone’s  interest 
in  his  new  home,  that  it  was  exposed  to  all  the  perils  of 
border  life ;  that  his  rifle  should  be  ever  loaded ;  that  his 
faithful  watch-dog  should  be  stationed  at  the  door,  to 
give  warning  of  any  approaching  footsteps ;  and  that 


286 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


he  and  his  family  should  always  be  ready  for  a  siege  oi 
battle.  With  these  precautions,  Boone  had  no  more 
fear  of  assault  from  half  a  dozen  vagabond  Indians* 
than  he  had  from  so  many  howling  wolves. 

The  casualties  of  life  had  greatly  reduced  his  family. 
Of  his  three  sons,  the  eldest  had  fallen  beneath  the 
arrow  and  the  tomahawk  of  the  savages  amidst  the 
gloomy  defiles  of  the  Alleghany  mountains.  His 
second  son  was  killed  at  the  dreadful  battle  cf  the  Blue 
Licks,  as  his  agonised  father  had  been  compelled  to 
abandon  him  to  the  merciless  foe.  His  third  son, 
probably  chagrined  by  the  treatment  which  his  father 
had  received  from  the  authorities  of  Kentucky,  had 
bidden  adieu  to  all  the  haunts  of  civilized  life,  and 
traversing  the  wilderness  towards  the  setting  sun  for 
many  hundred  miles,  had  crossed  the  Mississippi  and 
sought  a  home  in  the  wilds  of  the  upper  Louisiana, 
then  under  the  dominion  of  Spain. 

As  Boone  was  quietly  engaged  in  his  solitary  voca¬ 
tion  of  farmer  and  hunter,  where  there  were  no  books, 
no  newspapers,  nothing  whatever  to  inform  him  of 
what  was  transpiring  in  the  busy  world  of  civilization, 
or  in  the  haunts  of  savage  life,  two  or  three  hunters 
came  one  day  to  his  cabin,  where  of  course  they  met 
with  a  very  hospitable  reception.  It  was  not  difficult 
to  entertain  guests  in  those  days.  The  floor  of  the 
cabin  supplied  all  the  needed  accommodations  for 


ADVENTURES.  28 f 

lodging.  Each  guest  with  his  rifle  could  easily  furnish 
more  food  than  was  desired  for  the  whole  family. 

A  little  corn-meal,  very  coarsely  ground  in  what 
was  called  a  tub-mill,  gave  quite  a  variety  of  palatable 
food.  Boiled  in  water  it  formed  a  dish  called  mush, 
which  when  eaten  with  milk,  honey  or  butter,  presented 
truly  a  delicious  repast  for  hungry  mouths.  Mixed 
with  cold  water,  it  was  ready  to  be  baked.  When  cov¬ 
ered  with  hot  ashes,  it  emerged  smoking  from  the  glow¬ 
ing  embers  in  the  form  of  Ash  Cake.  When  baked  upon 
a  shingle  and  placed  before  the  coals,  it  was  termed 
Journey  Cake,  so  called  because  it  could  be  so  speed¬ 
ily  prepared.  This  name  has  been  corrupted  in 
modern  times  into  Johnny  Cake.  When  baked  upon 
a  helveless  hoe,  it  formed  the  Hoe  Cake.  When 
baked  in  a  kettle  covered  with  a  heated  lid,  if  in  one 
large  cake,  it  was  called  a  Pone  or  loaf.  If  in  quite 
a  number  of  small  cakes  they  were  called  Dodgers. 

Corn  flour  seems  to  have  been  peculiarly  prepared 
by  Providence  for  the  pioneers.  For  them  it  possesses 
gome  very  great  advantages  over  all  other  flour.  It 
requires  but  few  and  the  most  simple  cooking  utensils. 
It  can  be  rendered  very  palatable  without  either  yeast, 
eggs,  sugar  or  spices  of  any  kind.  It  can  easily  be 
raised  in  the  greatest  abundance,  and  affords  the  most 
wholesome  and  nutritious  food. 

u  Let  pseans,”  writes  Mr.  Hartly,  “  be  sung  all  over 


288 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


the  mighty  West,  to  Indian  Corn.  Without  it,  the 
West  would  still  have  been  a  wilderness.  Was  the 
frontier  suddenly  invaded,  without  commissary,  or 
quartermaster,  or  other  sources  of  supply,  each  soldier 
parched  a  peck  of  corn.  A  portion  of  it  was  put  into 
his  pockets,  the  remainder  in  his  wallet,  and  throwing 
it  upon  his  saddle  with  his  rifle  on  his  shoulder,  he 
was  ready  in  half  an  hour  for  the  campaign.  Did  a 
flood  of  emigration  inundate  the  frontier,  with  an 
amount  of  consumers  disproportioned  to  the  supply 
of  grain,  the  facility  of  raising  the  Indian  corn, 
and  its  early  maturity,  gave  promise  and  guarantee 
that  the  scarcity  would  be  temporary  and  tolerable. 
Did  the  safety  of  the  frontier  demand  the  services  of 
every  adult  militiaman,  the  boys  and  women  could 
themselves  raise  corn,  and  furnish  ample  supplies  of 
bread.  Did  an  autumnal  intermittent  confine  the 
whole  family,  or  the  entire  population  to  the  sick  bed, 
this  certain  concomitant  of  the  clearing  and  culti¬ 
vating  the  new  soil,  mercifully  withholds  its  paroxysms 
till  the  crop  of  corn  is  made.  It  requires  no  further 
labor  or  care  afterwards.  Paeans,  say  we,  and  a  temple 
of  worshipping  to  the  creator  of  Indian  Corn !” 

The  hunters  to  whom  we  referred  were  indeed  con¬ 
genial  companions  to  Daniel  Poone.  As  day  after 
day  they  accompanied  him  in  the  chase,  and  night 
after  night  sat  by  the  blaze  of  his  cabine-fire,  related 


ADVENTURES* 


239 


£0  him  the  adventures  they  had  encountered  far  away 
beyond  the  Mississippi,  the  spirit  of  his  youth  revived 
within  him.  An  irrepressible  desire  sprang  up  in  his 
heart  again  to  become  a  pioneer  in  the  pathless 
forest  which  he  loved  so  well.  It  is  not  improbable 
also  that  his  parental  feelings  might  have  been  aroused 
by  the  consideration  that  his  son  had  gone  before  him 
to  that  distant  land ;  and  that  he  might  have  been 
animated  by  the  hope  of  being  reunited  with  him  Tn 
his  declining  years. 

The  hunters  represented  to  him  that  another  Ken* 
tucky  could  be  found  beyond  the  Father  ot  Waters  ; 
that  the  game  was  abundant  and  would  be  inexhaust¬ 
ible,  until  long  after  his  earthly  pilgrimage  should 
end  ;  that  the  Spanish  Government,  desirous  of  pro¬ 
moting  emigration,  were  ready  to  make  the  most 
liberal  grants  of  land  to  any  man  who  would  rear  a 
cabin  and  commence  the  cultivation  of  the  soil ;  that 
over  an  expanse  of  hundreds  of  miles  of  a  sunny 
clime,  and  as  luxurious  soil  as  heart  could  desire,  he 
could  select  his  broad  acres  with  no  fear  of  ever  again 
being  ejected  from  his  home. 

These  representations  were  resistless.  Colonel 
Boone  decided  again  to  become  a  wanderer  to  the 
far  West,  though  it  involved  the  relinquishment  of 
American  citizenship  and  becoming  a  subject  of  th® 
crown  of  Spain. 

25 


290 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


The  year  1795  had  now  come,  as  Colonel  Boone 
gathered  up  his  few  household  goods  for  the  fourth 
great  remove  of  his  life.  He  was  born  on  the  banks 
of  the  Delaware ;  his  childhood  was  passed  amidst 
the  solitudes  of  the  Upper  Skuylkill;  his  early  man¬ 
hood,  where  he  reared  his  cabin  and  took  to  it  his 
worthy  bride,  was  in  North  Carolina.  Thence  pene¬ 
trating  the  wilderness  through  adventures  surpassing 
the  dreams  of  romance,  he  had  passed  many  years 
amidst  the  most  wonderful  vicissitudes  of  quietude 
and  of  agitation,  of  peace  and  of  war,  on  the  settle¬ 
ment  of  which  he  was  the  father,  at  Boonesborough, 
in  the  valley  of  the  Kentucky  river.  Robbed  of  the 
possessions  which  he  had  earned  a  hundred  times 
over,  he  had  sought  a  temporary  residence  at  Point 
Pleasant,  in  Virginia.  And  now,  as  he  was  approach¬ 
ing  the  termination  of  his  three  score  years,  he 
was  prepared  to  traverse  the  whole  extent  of  Ken¬ 
tucky,  from  the  Alleghany  border  on  the  east,  to  the 
mighty  flood  of  the  Mississippi,  which  then  upon  the 
west  rushed  with  its  turbid  flood  through  an  almost 
unbroken  solitude.  It  was  a  long,  long  journey. 

We  can  only  surmise  the  reasons  why  he  did  not 
float  down  the  Ohio  in  a  flat  boat.  It  may  be  said 
that  he  was  entirely  unaccustomed  to  boating.  And 
as  it  does  not  appear  that  any  other  families  joined 
him  in  the  enterprise,  his  solitary  boat  would  be 


ADVENTURES. 


29I 


almost  certain  to  be  attacked  and  captured  by  some 
of  the  marauding  bands  which  frequented  the  northern 
banks  of  the  Ohio. 

Colonel  Boone  was  perfectly  at  home  in  the  wilder¬ 
ness.  He  could  always  find  a  path  for  himself,  where 
there  was  no  trail  to  follow^.  And  but  few  Indians 
now  ventured  into  the  interior  of  the  State.  We  have 
no  record  of  the  journey.  He  reached  the  Mississippi 
safely,  crossed  the  river  into  what  is  now  the  State  of 
Missouri,  and  found  a  warm  greeting  in  the  cabin  of 
his  son  Daniel  M.  Boone,  who  had  established  him¬ 
self  upon  the  western  banks  of  the  river,  near  where 
the  city  of  St.  Louis  now  stands. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


A  New  Home. 

v 


Cstonel  Book©  welcomed  by  the  Spanish  Authorities.  — Boone’s  Nar¬ 
rative  to  Audubon.  —  The  Midnight  Attack.  —  Pursuit  of  the 
Ravages. — Sickness  In  the  Wilderness.  —  Honesty  of  Colonel 
Boone. — Payment  of  his  Debts. — Loss  of  all  his  Property. 


At  the  time  when  Colonel  Boone  crossed  the  Mis¬ 
sissippi  and  entered  Missouri,  the  Spanish  Govern¬ 
ment,  then  in  possession  of  that  territory,  being 
anxious  to  promote  the  settlement  of  the  country, 
gave  a  very  cordial  welcome  to  all  emigrants.  The 
fame  of  Colonel  Boone,  as  one  of  the  most  bold  and 
valuable  of  pioneers,  had  preceded  him.  The  Lieu¬ 
tenant  Governor  under  the  Spanish  crown,  who  resided 

at  St.  Louis,  received  him  with  marked  attention,  and 

& 

gave  him  the  assurance  that  ample  portions  of  land 
should  be  given  to  him  and  his  family. 

Colonel  Boone  took  up  his  residence,  with  his  son, 
in  what  is  called  the  Femme  Osage  district.  The 
Spanish  authorities  appointed  him  Commandant  of 
the  district,  which  was  an  office  of  both  civil  and 
military  power.  His  commission  was  dated  July  nth, 
s8oa  Remote  as  was  this  region  from  the  Atlantic 

(292) 


A  NEW  HOME. 


293 


States,  bold  adventurers,  lured  by  the  prospect  of 
obtaining  large  tracts  of  land,  were  rapidly  pouring 
in.  Instead  of  collecting  together,  they  scattered 
wildly  over  the  vast  domain.  Don  Charles,  the  Spa¬ 
nish  governor,  gave  Colonel  Boone  eight  thousand 
acres  of  land  on  the  north  side  of  the  Missouri  river. 
By  the  law  of  the  province  he  was  bound  to  build 
upon  some  part  of  this  land  a  house  within  the  year, 
and  also  to  obtain  a  confirmation  of  the  grant  from 
the  representative  of  the  Spanish  crown,  then  residing 
in  New  Orleans.  Both  of  these  precautions  the  simple- 
minded  man  neglected  to  adopt.  To  visit  New  Orleans 
required  a  journey  through  the  wilderness  of  more 
than  a  thousand  miles.  Though  he  might  float  down 
the  stream  in  his  boat  he  would  be  exposed  conti¬ 
nually  to  attacks  from  the  Indians  on  its  banks,  and 
when  ready  to  return  he  could  not  surmount  the  rapid 
current  of  the  river  in  his  boat,  but  would  be  com¬ 
pelled  to  traverse  the  winding  banks,  often  through 
almost  impenetrable  forests  and  morasses.  His  duties 
as  syndic  or  justice  of  the  peace  also  occupied  much 
of  his  time,  and  the  Lieutenant  Governor  at  St.  Louis 
agreed  to  dispense  with  his  residence  upon  his  lands. 
In  addition  to  this,  Colonel  Boone  had  no  doubt  that 
the  country  would  soon  come  under  the  power  of  the 
United  States,  and  he  could  not  believe  the  United 
States  Government  would  disturb  his  title. 


294 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


Soon  after  Boone’s  emigration  to  Missouri,  the 
Emperor  Napeoleon,  by  treaty  with  Spain,  obtained 
possession  of  the  whole  of  the  vast  region  west  of  the 
Mississippi  and  Missouri,  then  known  as  Louisiana, 
and  the  region  was  transferred  to  France.  It  is  a  cu¬ 
rious  fact  in  the  history  of  Boone  passing  through  such 
wonderful  adventures,  that  he  had  been  a  subject  of 
George  II.,  George  III.,  a  citizen  of  the  United  States, 
of  the  temporary  nationality  of  Transylvania,  an 
adopted  son  and  citizen  of  the  Shawanese  tribe  of 
Indians,  a  subject  of  Charles  IV.  of  Spain,  and  now 
he  found  himself  a  subject  of  the  first  Napoleon, 
whose  empire  was  then  filling  the  world  with  its 
renown. 

Not  long  after  this,  the  Emperor  sold  the  country, 
as  we  have  recorded,  to  the  United  States,  saying  with 
that  prophetic  wdsdom  which  characterised  this  extra¬ 
ordinary  man,  “I  have  now  given  England  a  rival 
upon  the  seas.”  The  fulfilment  of  this  prophecy  has 
since  then  been  every  hour  in  process  of  develop¬ 
ment. 

Colonel  Boone  seems  to  have  been  very  happy  in 
his  new  home.  He  still  enjoyed  his  favorite  pursuit  of 
hunting,  for  the  forests  around  him  were  filled  with 
game  and  with  animals  whose  rich  furs  were  every 
year  becoming  more  valuable.  The  distinguished 
naturalist,  J.  J.  Audubon,  visited  him  in  his  solitary 


A  NEW  HOME. 


295 


retreat,  and  spent  a  night  with  him.  In  his  Ornitho¬ 
logical  Biography  he  gives  the  following  narrative 
which  he  received  from  Boone,  that  evening  as  they 
sat  at  the  cabin  fire.  We  give  the  story  in  the  words 
of  the  narrator  : 

“Daniel  Boone,  or  as  he  was  usually  called  in  the 
Western  country,  Colonel  Boone,  happened  to  spend 
a  night  with  me  under  the  same  roof,  more  than 
twenty  years  ago.  We  had  returned  from  a  shooting 
excursion,  in  the  course  of  which  his  extraordinary 
skill  in  the  management  of  the  rifle  had  been  fully 
displayed.  On  retiring  to  the  room  appropriated  to 
that  remarkable  individual  and  myself  for  the  night,  I 
felt  anxious  to  know  more  of  his  exploits  and  adven¬ 
tures  than  I  did,  and  accordingly  took  the  liberty  of 
proposing  numerous  questions  to  him. 

“The  stature  and  general  appearance  of  this  wan¬ 
derer  of  the  western  forests  approached  the  gigantic. 
His  chest  was  broad  and  prominent,  his  muscular 
powers  displayed  themselves  in  every  limb ;  his 
countenance  gave  indication  of  his  great  courage, 
enterprise  and  perseverance ;  and  when  he  spoke  the 
very  motion  of  his  lips  brought  the  impression  that 
whatever  he  uttered  could  not  be  otherwise  than 
strictly  true.  I  undressed  while  he  merely  took  off 
his  hunting  shirt  and  arranged  a  few  folds  of  blankets 
on  the  floor,  choosing  rather  to  lie  there,  as  he  ob- 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


296 

served,  than  on  the  softest  bed.  When  we  had  both 
disposed  of  ourselves  each  after  his  own  fashion,  he 
elated  to  me  the  following  account  of  his  powers  of 
memory,  which  I  lay  before  your  kind  reader  in  his 
own  words,  hoping  that  the  simplicity  of  his  style 
may  prove  interesting  to  you  : 

I  was  once,’  said  he,  *  on  a  hunting  expedition  on 
the  banks  of  the  Green  River,  when  the  lower  parts  of 
Kentucky  were  still  in  the  hands  of  nature,  and  none 
but  the  sons  of  the  soil  were  looked  upon  as  its  lawful 
proprietors.  We  Virginians  had  for  some  time  been 
waging  a  war  of  intrusion  upon  them,  and  I  among 
the  rest  rambled  through  the  woods  in  pursuit  of 
their  race,  as  I  now  would  follow  the  tracks  of  any 
ravenous  animal.  The  Indians  outwitted  me  one  dark 
night,  and  I  was  as  unexpectedly  as  suddenly  made  a 
prisoner  by  them. 

“‘The  trick  had  been  managed  with  great  skill; 
for  no  sooner  had  I  extinguished  the  fire  of  my  camp, 
and  laid  me  down  to  rest  in  full  security,  as  I  thought, 
than  I  felt  seized  by  an  undistinguishable  number  of 
hands,  and  was  immediately  pinioned  as  if  about  to  be 
led  to  the  scaffold  for  execution.  To  have  attempted 
to  be  refractory  would  have  proved  useless  and  dan¬ 
gerous  to  my  life,  and  I  suffered  myself  to  be  removed 
from  my  camp  to  theirs,  a  few  miles  distant,  without 
ufetering  a  word  of  complaint.  You  are  aware.,  I  dare- 


A  NEW  HOME. 


297 


say,  that  to  act  in  this  manner  was  the  best  policy,  as 
you  understand  that  by  so  doing,  I  proved  to  the 
Indians  at  once  that  I  was  bora  and  bred  as  fearless 
of  death  as  any  of  themselves. 

“‘When  we  reached  the  camp  great  rejoicings  were 
exhibited.  Two  squaws  and  a  few  papooses  appeared 
particularly  delighted  at  the  sight  of  me,  and  I  was 
assured  by  every  unequivocal  gesture  and  word  that 
on  the  morrow  the  mortal  enemy  of  the  red  skins 
would  cease  to  live.  I  never  opened  my  lips,  but  was 
busy  contriving  some  scheme  which  might  enable  me 
to  give  the  rascals  a  slip  before  dawn.  The  women 
immediately  fell  a  searching  about  my  hunting  shirt 
for  whatever  they  might  think  valuable,  and  fortu¬ 
nately  for  me  soon  found  my  flask  filled  with  strong 
whiskey. 

“‘A  terrific  grin  was  exhibited  on  their  murderous 
countenances,  while  my  heart  throbbed  with  joy  at  the 
anticipation  of  their  intoxication.  The  crew  began 
immediately  to  beat  their  bellies  and  sing,  as  they 
passed  the  bottle  from  mouth  to  mouth.  How  often 
did  I  wish  the  flask  ten  times  its  size  and  filled  with 
aquafortis  !  I  observed  that  the  squaws  drank  more 
freely  than  the  warriors,  and  again  my  spirits  were 
about  to  be  depressed  when  the  report  of  a  gun  was 
heard  at  a  distance.  The  Indians  all  jumped  on  their 
feet.  The  singing  and  drinking  were  both  brought  to  a 


298 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


stand,  and  I  saw  with  inexpressible  joy  the  men  walk 
off  to  some  distance  and  talk  to  the  squaws.  I  knew 
that  they  were  consulting  about  me,  and  I  foresaw 

that  in  a  few  moments  the  warriors  would  go  to  dis- 

« 

cover  the  cause  of  the  gun  having  been  fired  so  near 
their  camp.  I  expected  that  the  squaws  would  be  left 
to  guard  me.  Well,  sir,  it  was  just  so.  They  returned, 
the  men  took  up  their  guns  and  walked  away.  The 
squaws  sat  down  again  and  in  less  than  five  minutes 
had  my  bottle  up  to  their  dirty  mouths,  gurgling 
down  their  throats  the  remains  of  the  whiskey. 

“  ‘With  pleasure  did  I  see  them  becoming  more  and 
more  drunk,  until  the  liquor  took  such  hold  of  them 
that  it  was  quite  impossible  for  these  women  to  be  of 
any  service.  They  tumbled  down,  rolled  about  and 
began  to  snore,  when  I,  having  no  other  chance  of 
freeing  myself  from  the  cords  that  fastened  me,  rolled 
over  and  over  towards  the  fire,  and  after  a  short  time 
burned  them  asunder.  I  rose  on  my  feet,  snatched 
up  my  rifle,  and  for  once  in  my  life  spared  that  of 
Indians.  I  now  recollected  how  desirous  I  once  or 
twice  felt  to  lay  open  the  skulls  of  the  wretches  with 
my  tomahawk.  But  when  I  again  thought  upon 
killing  beings  unprepared  and  unable  to  defend 
themselves,  it  looked  like  murder  without  need,  and  I 
gave  up  the  idea. 

“  ‘But,  sir,  I  felt  determined  to  mark  the  spot,  and 


A  NEW  HOME. 


299 

\ 

< 

walking  to  a  thrifty  ash  sapling,  I  cut  out  of  it  three 
large  chips  and  ran  off.  I  soon  reached  the  river, 
soon  crossed  it,  and  threw  myself  into  the  cane-brakes, 
imitating  the  tracks  of  an  Indian  with  my  feet,  so  that 
no  chance  might  be  left  for  those  from  whom  I  had 
escaped  to  overtake  me. 

“  ‘It  is  now  nearly  twenty  years  since  this  happened, 
and  more  than  five  since  I  left  the  whites’  settlement, 
which  I  might  never  probably  have  visited  again,  had 
I  not  been  called  upon  as  a  witness  in  a  law  suit  which 
was  pending  in  Kentucky,  and  which  I  really  believe 
would  never  have  been  settled  had  I  not  come  forward 
and  established  the  beginning  of  a  certain  boundary 
line.  The  story  is  this,  sir: 

“  ‘Mr. - moved  from  Old  Virginia  into  Kentucky, 

and  having  a  large  tract  granted  to  him  in  the  new 
State,  laid  claim  to  a  certain  parcel  of  land  adjoining 
Green  River,  and,  as  chance  would  have  it,  took  for 
one  of  his  corners  the  very  ash  tree  on  which  I  had 
made  my  mark,  beginning,  as  it  is  expressed  in  the 
deed,  ‘At  an  ash  marked  by  three  distinct  notches  of 
the  tomahawk  of  a  white  man.’ 

“  ‘The  tree  had  grown  much,  and  the  bark  had 

covered  the  marks.  But  somehow  or  other  Mr.  - 

had  heard  from  some  one  all  that  I  have  already 
said  to  you,  and  thinking  that  I  might  remember  the 
spot  alluded  to  in  the  deed,  but  which  was  no  longer 


Soo 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


discoverable,  wrote  for  me  to  come  and  try  ai 
least  to  find  the  place  or  the  tree.  His  letter  men¬ 
tioned  that  all  my  expenses  should  be  paid ;  and 
not  caring  much  about  once  more  going  back  to 

Kentucky,  I  started  and  met  Mr. - .  After  some 

conversation,  the  affair  with  the  Indians  came  to  my 
recollection.  I  considered  for  a  while,  and  began  to 
think  that,  after  all,  I  could  find  the  very  spot,  as  well 
as  the  tree,  if  it  were  yet  standing. 

“  Mr.  -  and  I  mounted  our  horses  and  off  we 

went  to  the  Green  River  bottoms.  After  some  diffi¬ 
culty — for  you  must  be  aware,  sir,  that  great  changes 
have  taken  place  in  those  woods — I  found  at  last  the 
spot  where  I  had  crossed  the  river,  and  waiting  for 
the  moon  to  rise,  made  for  the  course  in  which  I 
thought  the  ash  trees  grew.  On  approaching  the 
place  I  felt  as  if  the  Indians  were  there  still,  and  as  if 

I  were  still  a  prisoner  among  them.  Mr. - and  I 

camped  near  what  I  conceived  the  spot,  and  waited 
jntil  the  return  of  day. 

“  ‘  At  the  rising  of  the  sun  I  was  on  foot,  and  after  a 
good  deal  of  musing  thought  that  an  ash  tree,  then 
in  sight,  must  be  the  very  one  on  which  I  had  made 
my  mark.  I  felt  as  if  there  could  be  no  doubt  about 
it,  and  mentioned  my  thought  to  Mr. - * 

“‘Well,  Colonel  Boone,’  said  he,  ‘  if  you  think  so  I 
hope  that  it  may  prove  true,  but  we  must  have  some 


A  NEW  HOME.  302 

witnesses.  Do  you  stay  hereabouts  and  I  will  go 
and  bring  some  of  the  settlers  whom  I  know/ 

“  *  I  agreed.  Mr. - trotted  off,  and  I,  to  pass  the 

time,  rambled  about  to  see  if  a  deer  was  still  living  in 
the  land.  But  ah !  sir,  what  a  wonderful  difference 
thirty  years  makes  in  a  country  !  Why,  at  the  time 
when  I  was  caught  by  the  Indians,  you  would  not 
have  walked  out  in  any  direction  more  than  a  mile 
without  shooting  a  buck  or  a  bear.  There  were  then 
thousands  of  buffaloes  on  the  hills  in  Kentucky.  The 
land  looked  as  if  it  never  would  become  poor;  and 
to  hunt  in  those  days  was  a  pleasure  indeed.  But 
when  I  was  left  to  myself  on  the  banks  of  Green 
River,  I  daresay  for  the  last  time  in  my  life,  a  few 
signs  only  of  the  deer  were  seen,  and  as  to  a  dee* 
itself  I  saw  none. 

«  <  Mr. - returned,  accompanied  by  three  gentle¬ 

men.  They  looked  upon  me  as  if  I  had  been  Wash¬ 
ington  himself,  and  walked  to  the  ash  tree,  which  I 
now  called  my  own,  as  if  in  quest  of  a  long  lost 
treasure.  I  took  an  axe  from  one  of  them  and  cut  a 
few  chips  off  the  bark.  Still  no  signs  were  to  be 
seen  So  I  cut  again  until  I  thought  it  time  to  be 
cautious,  and  I  scraped  and  worked  away  with  my 
butcher  knife  until  I  did  come  to  where  my  tomahawk 
had  left  an  impression  on  the  wood.  We  now  went 
regularly  to  work  and  scraped  at  the  tree  with  care 


302 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


until  three  hacks,  as  plain  as  any  three  notches  ever 
were,  could  be  seen.  Mr.  -  and  the  other  gentle¬ 

men  were  astonished,  and  I  must  allow  that  I  was  as 
much  surprised  as  pleased  myself.  I  made  affidavit 
of  this  remarkable  occurrence  in  presence  of  these 

gentlemen.  Mr.  - gained  his  cause.  I  left  Green 

River  for  ever,  and  came  to  where  we  are  now ;  and, 
sir,  I  wish  you  a  good  night.” 

The  life  of  this  wonderful  man  was  filled  with 
similar  adventures,  many  of  which  can  now  never  be 
recalled.  The  following  narrative  will  give  the  reader 
an  idea  of  the  scenes  which  were  continually  occur¬ 
ring  in  those  bloody  conflicts  between  the  white  set¬ 
tlers  and  the  Indians : 

“A  widow  was  residing  in  a  lonely  log  cabin,  remote 
from  any  settlers,  in  what  is  now  Bourbon  County, 
Kentucky.  Her  lonely  hut  consisted  of  but  two 
rooms.  One,  the  aged  widow  occupied  herself,  with 
two  sons  and  a  widowed  daughter  with  an  infant 
child ;  the  other  was  tenanted  by  her  three  unmarried 
daughters,  the  oldest  of  whom  was  twenty  years  of  age. 

“It  was  eleven  o’clock  at  night,  and  the  members  of 
the  industrious  family  in  their  lonely  habitation  had 
retired,  with  the  exception  of  one  of  the  daughters 
and  one  of  the  sons  who  was  keeping  her  company. 
Some  indications  of  danger  had  alarmed  the  young 
man,  though  he  kept  his  fears  to  himself. 


A  NEW  HOME. 


303 


“The  cry  apparently  of  owls  in  an  adjoining  forest 
was  heard,  answering  each  other  in  rather  an  unusual 
way.  The  horses  in  the  enclosure  by  the  side  of  the 
house,  who  seemed  to  have  an  instinct  informing  them 
of  the  approach  of  the  Indians,  seemed  much  excited 
and  galloped  around  snorting  with  terror.  Soon  steps 
were  heard  in  the  yard,  and  immediately  several  loud 
knocks  were  made  at  the  door,  with  some  one  enquir¬ 
ing,  in  good  English,  “Who  keeps  this  house?”  The 
young  man  very  imprudently  was  just  unbarring  the 
door  when  the  mother  sprang  from  the  bed,  exclaim¬ 
ing  that  they  were  Indians. 

“The  whole  family  was  immediately  aroused,  and 
the  young  men  seized  their  guns.  The  Indians  now 
threw  off  all  disguise,  and  began  to  thunder  at  the 
door,  endeavoring  to  break  it  down.  Through  a  loop 
hole  prepared  for  such  an  emergency,  a  rifle  shot, 
discharged  at  the  savages,  compelled  a  precipitate 
retreat.  Soon,  however,  they  cautiously  returned, 
and  attacking  the  other  end  of  the  cabin,  where  they 
found  a  point  not  exposed  to  the  Are  from  within, 
they  succeeded  at  length  in  breaking  through,  and 
entered  the  room  occupied  by  the  three  girls.  One 
of  them  they  seized  and  bound.  Her  sister  made 
desperate  resistance,  and  stabbed  one  of  the  Indians 
to  the  heart  with  a  large  knife  which  she  was  using  at 
the  loom.  They  immediately  tomahawked  her  and 


304 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


she  fell  dead  upon  the  floor.  The  little  girl  In  the 
gloom  of  midnight  they  had  overlooked.  The  poos 
little  thing  ran  out  of  the  door,  and  might  have 
escaped  had  she  not,  in  her  terror,  lost  all  self-control, 
and  ran  round  the  house  wringing  her  hands  and 
crying  bitterly. 

“  The  brothers,  agonized  by  the  cries  of  their  little 
sister,  were  just  about  opening  the  door  to  rush  out 
to  her  rescue,  when  their  more  prudent  mother  de¬ 
clared  that  the  child  must  be  abandoned  to  its  fate, 
that  any  attempt  to  save  her  would  not  only  be 
unavailing,  but  would  ensure  the  certain  destruction 
of  them  all.  Just  then  the  child  uttered  a  most 
frantic  scream  They  heard  the  dull  sound  as  of  a 
tomahawk  falling  upon  the  brain.  There  were  a  few 
convulsive  moans,  and  all  again  was  silent.  It  was 
but  too  evident  to  all  what  these  sounds  signified. 

41  Presently  the  crackling  of  flames  was  heard,  and 
through  the  port-holes  could  be  seen  the  glare  of  the 
rising  conflagration,  while  the  shouts  of  the  savages 
grew  more  exultant  They  had  set  fire  to  the  end  of 
the  building  occupied  by  the  daughters.  The  logs 
were  dry  as  tinder,  and  the  devouring  element  was 
soon  enveloping  the  whole  building  in  its  fatal 
embrace.  To  remain  in  the  cabin  was  certain  death, 
in  its  most  appalling  form.  In  rushing  out  there  was 
a  bare  possibility  that  some  might  escape.  There  was 


A  NEW  HOME. 


m 

is©  time  for  reflection.  The  hot  stifling  flames  and 
smothering  smoke  were  rolling  in  upon  them,  when 
they  opened  the  door  and  rushed  out  into  the  outer 
air,  endeavoring  as  soon  as  possible  to  reach  the 
gloom  of  the  forest. 

u  The  old  lady,  aided  by  her  eldest  son,  ran  in  one 
direction  towards  a  fence,  while  the  other  daughter, 
with  her  infant  in  her  arms,  accompanied  by  the 
younger  of  the  brothers,  ran  in  another  direction.  The 
fire  was  blazing  so  fiercely  as  to  shed  all  around  the 
light  of  day.  The  old  lady  had  just  reached  the  fence 
when  several  rifle  balls  pierced  her  body  and  she  fell 
dead.  Her  son  almost  miraculously  escaped,  and 
leaping  the  fence  plunged  into  the  forest.  The  other 
party  was  pursued  by  the  Indians,  with  loud  yells. 
Throwing  down  their  guns  which  they  had  discharged, 
the  savages  rushed  upon  the  young  man  and  his  sister 
with  their  gleaming  tomahawks.  Gallantly  the  brother 
defended  his  sister ;  firing  upon  the  savages  as  thejr 
came  rushing  on,  and  then  assailing  them  with  the 
butt  of  his  musket  which  he  wielded  with  the  fury  of 
despair.  He  fought  with  such  herculean  strength  as 
to  draw  the  attention  of  all  the  savages  upon  himself, 
and  thus  gave  his  sister  an  opportunity  of  escaping. 
He  soon  however  fell  beneath  their  tomahawks,  and 
was  in  the  morning  found  scalped  and  mangled  in  the 
most  shocking  manner. 


3°6 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


Of  this  family  of  eight  persons  two  only  escaped 
from  this  awful  scene  of  midnight  massacre.  The 
neighborhood  was  immediately  aroused.  The  second 
daughter  was  carried  off  a  captive  by  the  savages. 
The  fate  of  the  poor  girl  awakened  the  deepest  sym¬ 
pathy,  and  by  daylight  thirty  men  were  assembled 
on  horseback,  under  the  command  of  Col.  Edwards, 
to  pursue  the  Indians.  Fortunately  a  light  snow  had 
fallen  during  the  night.  Thus  it  was  impossible  for 
the  savages  to  conceal  their  trail,  and  they  were  fol¬ 
lowed  on  the  full  gallop.  The  wretches  knew  full  well 
that  they  would  not  be  allowed  to  retire  unmolested. 
They  fled  with  the  utmost  precipitation,  seeking  to 
gain  the  mountainous  region  which  bordered  upon 
the  Licking  River. 

A  hound  accompanied  the  pursuing  party.  The 
sagacious  animal  was  very  eager  in  the  chase.  As 
the  trail  became  fresh,  and  the  scent  indicated  that 
the  foe  was  nearly  overtaken,  the  hound  rushing 
forward,  began  to  bay  very  loudly.  This  gave  the 
Indians  the  alarm.  Finding  the  strength  of  their 
captive  failing,  so  that  she  could  no  longer  continue 
the  rapid  flight,  they  struck  their  tomahawks  into 
her  brain,  and  left  her  bleeding  and  dying  upon  the 
snow.  Her  friends  soon  came  up  and  found  her  in 
the  convulsions  of  death.  Her  brother  sprang  from 
his  horse  and  tried  in  vain  to  stop  the  effusion  of 


A  NEW  HOME.  30 7 

blood.  She  seemed  to  recognize  him,  gave  him  her 
hand,  uttered  a  few  inarticulate  words,  and  died. 

The  pursuit  was  then  continued  with  new  ardor, 
and  in  about  twenty  minutes  the  avenging  white  men 
came  within  sight  of  the  savages.  With  considerable 
military  sagacity,  the  Indians  had  taken  position 
upon  a  steep  and  narrow  ridge,  and  seemed  desirous 
of  magnifying  their  numbers  in  the  eyes  of  their 
pursuers  by  running  from  tree  to  tree  and  making 
the  forest  resound  with  their  hideous  yells.  The 
pursuers  were,  however,  too  well  acquainted  with 
Indian  warfare  to  be  deceived  by  this  childish  artifice. 
They  dismounted,  tied  their  horses,  and  endeavored 
to  surround  the  enemy,  so  as  to  cut  off  his  retreat, 
but  the  cunning  Indians,  leaving  two  of  their  number 
behind  to  delay  the  pursuit  by  deceiving  the  white 
men  into  the  conviction  that  they  all  were  there,  fled 
to  the  mountains.  One  of  this  heroic  rear-guard — 
for  remaining  under  the  circumstances  was  the  almost 
certain  surrender  of  themselves  to  death — was  instantly 
shot.  The  other,  badly  wounded,  was  tracked  for  a 
long  distance  by  his  blood  upon  the  snow.  At  length 
his  trail  was  lost  in  a  running  stream.  Night  came, 
a  dismal  night  of  rain,  long  and  dark.  In  the  morn¬ 
ing  the  snow  had  melted,  every  trace  of  the  retreat 
of  the  enemy  was  obliterated,  and  the  further  pursuit 
of  the  foe  was  relinquished. 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


308 

Colonel  Boone,  deprived  of  his  property  by  the 
unrelenting  processes  of  pitiless  law,  had  left  Ken¬ 
tucky  impoverished  and  in  debt.  His  rifle  was  almost 
the  only  property  he  took  with  him  beyond  the  Mis¬ 
sissippi  The  rich  acres  which  had  been  assigned  to 
him  there  were  then  of  but  little  more  value  than  so 
many  acres  of  the  sky.  Though  he  was  so  far  away 
from  his  creditors  that  it  was  almost  impossible  that 
they  should  ever  annoy  him,  still  the  honest-hearted 
man  was  oppressed  by  the  consciousness  of  his  debts, 
and  was  very  anxious  to  pay  them.  The  forests  were 
full  of  game,  many  of  the  animals  furnishing  very 
valuable  fu/s^  He  took  his  rifle,  some  pack-horses, 
and,  accompanied  by  a  single  black  servant  boy, 
repaired  to  the  banks  of  the  Osage  River  to  spend 
the  winter  in  hunting.  Here  he  was  taken  danger¬ 
ously  sick,  and  was  apprehensive  that  he  should  die. 
We  know  not  what  were  his  religious  thoughts  upon 
this  occasion,  but  his  calmness  in  view  of  death,  taken 
in  connection  with  his  blameless,  conscientious,  and 
reflective  life,  and  with  the  fact  that  subsequently  he 
became  an  openly  avowed  disciple  of  Jesus,  indicate 
that  then  he  found  peace  in  view  of  pardoned  sin 
through  faith  in  the  atonement  of  Jesus  Christ.  He 
pointed  out  to  the  brack  boy  the  place  where,  should 
he  die,  he  wished  to  be  buried.  He  gave  very  minute 
directions  in  reference  to  his  burial  and  the  disposal 


A  NEW  HOME. 


309 


of  his  rifle,  blankets,  and  peltry.  Mr.  Peck  in  the 
following  language  describes  this  interesting  incident 
In  the  life  of  the  pioneer  : 

44  On  another  occasion  he  took  pack-horses  and 
went  to  the  country  on  the  Osage  river,  taking  for  a 
camp-keeper  a  negro  boy  about  twelve  or  fourteen 
years  of  age.  Soon  after  preparing  his  camp  and 
laying  in  his  supplies  for  the  winter,  he  was  taken 
sick  and  lay  a  long  time  in  camp.  The  horses  were 
hobbled  out  on  the  range.  After  a  period  of  stormy 
weather,  there  came  a  pleasant  and  delightful  day, 
and  Boone  felt  able  to  walk  out.  With  his  staff — for 
he  was  quite  feeble — he  took  the  boy  to  the  summit 
of  a  small  eminence  and  marked  out  the  ground  in 
shape  and  size  of  a  grave,  and  then  gave  the  following 
directions. 

44  He  instructed  the  boy,  in  case  of  his  death,  to 
wash  and  lay  his  body  straight,  wrapped  up  in  one  of 
the  cleanest  blankets.  He  was  then  to  construct  a 
kind  of  shovel,  and  with  that  instrument  and  the 
hatchet  to  dig  a  grave  exactly  as  he  had  marked  it 
out.  He  was  then  to  drag  the  body  to  the  place  and 
put  it  in  the  grave,  which  he  was  directed  to  cover  up, 
putting  posts  at  the  head  and  foot.  Poles  were  to 
be  placed  around  and  above  the  surface,  the  trees  to 
be  marked  so  that  the  place  could  be  easily  found  by 
his  friends ;  the  horses  were  to  be  caught,  the  blankets 


3io 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


and  skins  gathered  up,  with  some  special  instructions 
about  the  old  rifle,  and  various  messages  to  his  family. 
All  these  directions  were  given,  as  the  boy  afterwards 
declared,  with  entire  calmness,  and  as  if  he  were  giving 
instructions  about  ordinary  business.  He  soon  recov¬ 
ered,  broke  up  his  camp,  and  returned  homeward 
without  the  usual  signs  of  a  winter’s  hunt.” 

One  writer  says  Colonel  Boone  went  on  a  trapping 
excursion  up  the  Grand  River.  This  stream  rises  in 
the  southern  part  of  Iowa,  and  flows  in  a  southerly 
course  into  the  Missouri.  He  was  entirely  alone. 
Paddling  his  canoe  up  the  lonely  banks  of  the 
Missouri,  he  entered  the  Grand  River,  and  established 
his  camp  in  a  silent  sheltered  cove,  where  an  expe¬ 
rienced  hunter  would  with  difficulty  find  it. 

Here  he  first  laid  in  his  supply  of  venison,  turkeys, 
and  bear’s  meat,  and  then  commenced  his  trapping 
operation,  where  no  sound  of  his  rifle  would  disturb 
the  beavers  and  no  smell  of  gunpowder  would  excite 
their  alarm.  Every  morning  he  took  the  circuit  of 
his  traps,  visiting  them  all  in  turn.  Much  to  his 
alarm,  he  one  morning  encountered  a  large  encamp¬ 
ment  of  Indians  in  his  vicinity,  engaged  in  hunting. 
He  immediately  retreated  to  his  camp  and  secreted 
himself.  Fortunately  for  him,  quite  a  deep  snow  fell 
that  night,  which  covered  his  traps.  But  this  same 
snow  prevented  him  from  leaving  his  camp,  lest  his 


A  NEW  HOME. 


SI! 

footprints  should  be  discovered.  For  twenty  days  he 
continued  thus  secreted,  occasionally,  at  midnight, 
venturing  to  cook  a  little  food,  when  there  was  no 
danger  that  the  smoke  of  his  fire  would  reveal  his 
retreat.  At  length  the  enemy  departed,  and  he  was 
released  from  his  long  imprisonment.  He  subse¬ 
quently  stated  that  never  in  his  life  had  he  felt  so 
much  anxiety  for  so  long  a  period,  lest  the  Indians 
should  discover  his  traps  and  search  out  his  camp. 

It  seems  that  the  object  of  Colonel  Boone  in  these 
long  hunting  excursions  was  to  obtain  furs  that  he 
might  pay  the  debts  which  he  still  owed  in  Kentucky. 
A  man  of  less  tender  conscience  would  no  longer 
have  troubled  himself  about  them.  He  was  far 
removed  from  any  importunity  on  the  part  of  his 
creditors,  or  from  any  annoyance  through  the  law. 
Still  his  debts  caused  him  much  solicitude,  and  he 
could  not  rest  in  peace  until  they  were  fully  paid. 

After  two  or  three  seasons  of  this  energetic  hunting, 
Colonel  Boone  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  sufficient 
quantity  of  furs  to  enable  him,  by  their  sale,  to  pay 
all  his  debts.  With  this  object  in  view,  he  set  out  on 
his  long  journey  of  several  hundred  miles,  through  an 
almost  trackless  wilderness,  to  Kentucky.  He  saw 
every  creditor  and  paid  every  dollar.  Upon  his 
return,  Colonel  Boone  had  just  one  half  dollar  in  his 
pocket.  But  he  said  triumphantly  to  his  friends  : 


312 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


"  Now  I  am  ready  and  willing  to  die.  I  am  relieved 
from  a  burden  which  has  long  oppressed  me.  I  have 
paid  all  my  debts,  and  no  one  will  say  when  1  am 
gone,  *  Boone  was  a  dishonest  man/  I  am  perfectly 
willing  to  die/’ 

In  the  year  1803,  the  territory  west  of  the  Missis¬ 
sippi  came  into  the  possession  of  the  United  States. 
The  whole  region,  embracing  what  is  now  Missouri, 
was  then  called  the  territory  of  Louisiana.  Soon  after 
this  a  commission  was  appointed,  consisting  of  three 
able  and  impartial  men,  to  investigate  the  validity  of 
the  claims  to  land  granted  by  the  action  of  the 
Spanish  Government.  Again  poor  Boone  was  caught 
in  the  meshes  of  the  law.  It  was  found  that  he  had 
not  occupied  the  land  which  had  been  granted  him, 
that  he  had  not  gone  to  New  Orleans  to  perfect  his 
title,  and  that  his  claim  was  utterly  worthless. 

**  Poor  Boone !  Seventy-four  years  old,  and  the 
second  grasp  you  have  made  upon  the  West  has  been 
powerless.  You  have  risked  life,  and  lost  the  life  next 
dearest  your  own  for  the  West.  In  all  its  fearful 
forms,  death  has  looked  you  in  the  face,  and  you  have 
moved  on  to  conquer  the  soil  which  you  did  but 
conquer,  that  it  might  be  denied  to  you.  You  ha^e 
been  the  architect  of  the  prosperity  of  others,  but 
your  own  crumbles  each  time  as  you  are  about  to 
occupy  it  When  he  lost  his  farm  in  Boonesborough 


A  NEW  HOME. 


3i  3 


fee  did  not  linger  around  in  complainings,  but  went 
quietly  away,  returning  only  to  fulfil  the  obligations 
he  had  incurred.  And  now  this  last  decision  came, 
even  at  old  age,  to  leave  Daniel  Boone,  the  Pioneer  of 
the  West,  unable  to  give  a  title  deed  to  a  solitary 
acre.”  • 

The  fur  trade  was  at  this  time  very  lucrative. 
Many  who  were  engaged  in  it  accumulated  large 
fortunes.  It  was  in  this  traffic  that  John  Jacob  Astor 
laid  the  foundations  of  his  immense  wealth.  A  guide 
of  Major  Long  stated  that  he  purchased  of  an  Indian 
one  hundred  and  twenty  beaver  skins  for  two  blankets, 
two  gallons  of  rum,  and  a  pocket  mirror.  The  skins 
he  took  to  Montreal,  where  he  sold  them  for  over  four 
hundred  dollars. 

In  the  employment  of  the  fur  companies  the 
trappers  are  of  two  kinds,  called  the  “  hired  hand,” 
and  the  “  free  trapper.”  The  former  is  employed  by 
the  month,  receiving  regular  wages,  and  bringing  in 
all  the  furs  which  he  can  obtain.  Be  they  more  or 
less,  he  receives  his  stipulated  monthly  wages.  The 
free  trapper  is  supplied  by  the  company  with  traps 
and  certain  other  conveniences  with  which  he  plunges 
into  the  forest  on  his  own  hook„  engaging  however 


*  Life  of  Boon«,  by  W.  H.  Bogart,  p.  869. 

37 


3I4 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


to  sell  to  the  company,  at  a  stipulated  price,  whatever 
furs  he  may  secure. 

The  outfit  of  the  trapper  as  he  penetrated  the  vast 
and  trackless  region  of  gloomy  forests,  treeless  prairies, 
and  solitary  rivers,  spreading  everywhere  around  him, 
generally  consisted  of  two  or  three  horses,  one  for  the 
saddle  and  the  others  for  packs  containing  his  equip¬ 
ment  of  traps,  ammunition,  blankets,  cooking  utensils, 
&c.,  for  passing  lonely  months  in  the  far  away  solitudes. 
He  would  endeavor  to  find,  if  possible,  a  region  which 
neither  the  white  man  nor  the  Indian  had  ever  visited. 

The  dress  of  the  hunter  consisted  of  a  strong  shirt 
of  well-dressed  and  pliant  buckskin,  ornamented  with 
long  fringes.  The  vanity  of  dress,  If  it  may  be  so 
called,  followed  him  into  regions  where  no  eye  but  his 
own  could  see  its  beauties.  His  pantaloons  were  also 
made  of  buckskin  decorated  with  variously-colored 
porcupine  quills  and  with  long  fringes  down  the  out¬ 
side  of  the  leg.  Moccasins,  often  quite  gorgeously 
embroidered,  fitted  closely  to  his  feet.  A  very  flexible 
hat  or  cap  covered  his  head,  generally  of  felt, 
obtained  from  some  Indian  trader.  There  was  sus¬ 
pended  over  his  left  shoulder,  so  as  to  hang  beneath 
his  right  arm,  a  powder  horn  and  bullet  pouch.  In 
the  latter  he  carried  balls,  flints,  steel,  and  various 
odds  and  ends.  A  long  heavy  rifle  he  bore  upon  his 
shoulder.  * 


A  NEW  HOME. 


315 

A  belt  of  buckskin  buckled  tightly  around  the 
waist,  held  a  large  butcher  knife  in  a  sheath  of 
stout  buffalo  hide,  and  also  a  buckskin  case  containing 
a  whet-stone.  A  small  hatchet  or  tomahawk  was  also 
attached  to  this  belt.  Thus  rigged  and  in  a  new 
dress  the  hunter  of  good  proportions  presented  a  very 
picturesque  aspect.  With  no  little  pride  he  exhibited 
himself  at  the  trading  posts,  where  not  only  the  squaws 
and  the  children,  but  veteran  hunters  and  Indian 
braves  contemplated  his  person  with  admiration. 

Thus  provided  the  hunter,  more  frequently  alone 
but  sometimes  accompanied  by  two  or  three  others, 
set  out  for  the  mountain  streams,  as  early  in  the  spring 
as  the  melting  ice  would  enable  him  to  commence 
operations  against  the  beaver. 

Arrived  on  his  hunting  ground  he  carefully  ascends 
some  creek  or  stream,  examining  the  banks  with  prac¬ 
ticed  eye  to  discern  any  sign  of  the  presence  of 
beaver  or  of  any  other  animal  whose  fur  would  prove 
valuable.  If  a  cotton-wood  tree  lies  prostrate  he 
examines  it  to  see  if  it  has  been  cut  down  by  the 
sharp  tooth  of  the  beaver;  and  if  so  whether  it  has 
been  cut  down  for  food  or  to  furnish  material  for 
damming  a  stream.  If  the  track  of  a  beaver  is  seen 
in  the  mud,  he  follows  the  track  until  he  finds  a  good 
place  to  set  his  steel  trap  in  the  run  of  the  animal, 
hiding  it  under  water  and  carefully  attaching  it  by  a 


316 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


chain  to  a  bush  or  tree,  or  to  some  picket  driven  into 
the  bank.  A  float  strip  is  also  made  fast  to  the  trap, 
so  that  should  the  beaver  chance  to  break  away  with 
the  trap,  this  float  upon  the  surface,  at  the  end  of  a 
cord  a  few  feet  long,  would  point  out  the  position  of 
the  trap. 

“When  a  “lodge”  is  discovered  the  trap  is  set  at 
the  edge  of  the  dam,  at  the  point  where  the  animal 
passes  from  deep  to  shoal  water.  Early  in  the  morn¬ 
ing  the  hunter  always  mounts  his  mule  and  examines 
the  traps.  The  captured  animals  are  skinned,  and  the 
tails,  which  are  a  great  dainty,  carefully  packed  into 
camp.  The  skin  is  then  stretched  over  a  hoop  or 
frame-work  of  osier  twigs  and  is  allowed  to  dry,  the 
flesh  and  fatty  substance  being  carefully  scraped  off. 
When  dry  it  is  folded  into  a  square  sheet,  the  fur 
turned  inward,  and  the  bundle,  containing  from  about 
ten  to  twenty  skins,  lightly  pressed  and  corded,  is  ready 
for  transportation. 

“During  the  hunt,  regardless  of  Indian  vicinity,  the 
fearless  trapper  wanders  far  and  near  in  search  of 
u  sign.”  His  nerves  must  ever  be  in  a  state  of  tension 
nr.d  his  mind  ever  present  at  his  call.  His  eagle  eye 
sweeps  around  the  country,  and  in  an  instant  detects 
any  foreign  appearance.  A  turned  leaf,  a  blade  of 
grass  pressed  down,  the  uneasiness  of  wild  animals, 
the  flight  of  birds,  are  all  paragraphs  to  him  written 


A  NEW  HOME. 


Sl7 


in  nature’s  legmle  hand  and  plainest  language.  All  the 
wits  of  the  subtle  savage  are  called  into  play  to  gain 
an  advantage  over  the  wily  woodsman  ;  but  with  the 
Instinct  of  the  primitive  man,  the  white  hunter  has  the 
advantage  of  a  civilised  mind,  and  thus  provided 
seldom  fails  to  outwit,  under  equal  advantages,  the 
cunning  savage. 

“  Sometimes  the  Indian  following  on  his  trail 
watches  him  set  his  traps  on  a  shrub-belted  stream, 
and  passing  up  the  bed,  like  Bruce  of  old,  so  that  he 
may  leave  no  track,  he  lies  in  wait  in  the  bushes  until 
the  hunter  comes  to  examine.  Then  waiting  until  he 
approaches  his  ambush  within  a  few  feet,  whiz  flies 
the  home-drawn  arrow,  never  failing  at  such  close 
quarters  to  bring  the  victim  to  the  ground.  For  one 
white  scalp,  however,  that  dangles  in  the  smoke  of  an 
Indian  lodge,  a  dozen  black  ones  at  the  end  of  the 
hunt  ornament  the  camp-fire  of  the  rendezvous. 

“  At  a  certain  time  when  the  hunt  is  over,  or  they 
have  loaded  their  pack  animals,  the  trappers  proceed 
tc  their  rendezvous,  the  locality  of  which  has  been 
previously  agreed  upon ;  and  here  the  traders  and 
agents  of  the  fur  companies  await  them,  with  such 
assortments  of  goods  as  their  hardy  customers  may 
require,  including  generally  a  fair  supply  of  alcohoL 
The  trappers  drop  in  singly  and  in  small  bands, 
bringing  their  packs  ot  beaver  to  this  mountain 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


318 

market,  not  unfrequently  to  the  value  of  a  thousand 
dollars  each,  the  produce  of  one  hunt.  The  dissipation 
of  the  rendezvous,  however,  soon  turns  the  trapper’s 
pocket  inside  out.  The  goods  brought  by  the  traders, 
although  of  the  most  inferior  quality,  are  sold  at 
enormous  prices.  Coffee  twenty  and  thirty  shillings  a 
pint  cup,  which  is  the  usual  measure ;  tobacco  fetches 
ten  and  fifteen  shillings  a  plug;  alcohol  from  twenty 
to  fifty  shillings  a  pint ;  gun-powder  sixteen  shillings 
a  pint  cup,  and  all  other  articles  at  proportionately 
exhorbitant  prices. 

“  The  rendezvous  is  one  continued  scene  of  drunken¬ 
ness,  gambling,  brawling  and  fighting,  so  long  as  the 
money  and  credit  of  the  trappers  last.  Seated  Indian 
fashion  around  the  fires,  with  a  blanket  spread  before 
them,  groups  are  seen  with  their  “decks”  of  cards 
playing  at  “euchre,”  “poker,”  and  “seven-up,”  the 
regular  mountain  games.  The  stakes  are  beaver, 
which  is  here  current  coin ;  and  when  the  fur  is  gone, 
their  horses,  mules,  rifles  and  shirts,  hunting  packs  and 
breeches  are  staked.  Daring  gamblers  make  the 
rounds  of  the  camp,  challenging  each  other  to  play 
for  the  highest  stake — his  horse,  his  squaw  if  he 
have  one,  and  as  once  happened  his  scalp.  A  trapper 
often  squanders  the  produce  of  his  hunt,  amounting  to 
hundreds  of  dollars,  in  a  couple  of  hours ;  and  supplied 
on  credit  with  another  equipment,  leaves  the  rendez- 


A  NEW  HOME. 


319 


vous  for  another  expedition  which  has  the  same  result, 
time  after  time,  although  one  tolerably  successful 
hunt  would  enable  him  to  return  to  the  settlements 
and  civilised  life  with  an  ample  sum  to  purchase  and 
stock  a  farm,  and  enjoy  himself  in  ease  and  comfort 
for  the  remainder  of  his  days. 

“  These  annual  gatherings  are  often  the  scene  of 
bloody  duels,  for  over  their  cups  and  cards  no  men 
are  more  quarrelsome  than  your  mountaineers.  Rifles 
at  twenty  paces  settle  all  differences,  and  as  may  be 
imagined,  the  fall  of  one  or  other  of  the  combatants 
is  certain,  or,  as  sometimes  happens,  both  fall  at  the 
same  fire.”* 


*  Buxton’s  Travels. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


Conclusion. 

Colsnel  Boone  Appeals  to  Congress. — Complimentary  Besolssticms  of 
ttoe  Legislature  of  Kentucky. — Death  of  Mrs.  Boone. — Catholic 
Liberality. — Itinerant  Preachers. — Grant  by  Congress  to  Colonel 
Boone. — The  Evening  of  his  Days. — Personal  Appearance. — Death 
and  Burial. — Transference  of  the  Remains  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Boone 
to  Frankfort,  Kentucky. 

Colonel  Boone  having  lost  all  his  property,  sent  in 
a  memorial,  by  the  advice  of  his  friends,  to  the 
Legislature  of  Kentucky,  and  also  another  to  Congress. 
Kentucky  was  now  a  wealthy  and  populous  State, 
and  was  not  at  all  indisposed  to  recognise  the 
invaluable  services  she  had  received  from  Colonel 
Boone.  In  allusion  to  these  services  Governor 
Moorehead  said  : 

“  It  is  not  assuming  too  much  to  declare,  that 
without  Colonel  Boone,  in  all  probability  the  settle¬ 
ments  could  not  have  been  upheld  ;  and  the  conquest 
of  Kentucky  might  have  been  reserved  for  the 
emigrants  of  the  nineteenth  century.” 

What  obstacle  stood  in  the  way  of  a  liberal  grant 
of  land  by  the  Kentucky  Legislature  we  do  not  know. 
We  simply  know  that  by  a  unanimous  vote  of  that 
body,  the  following  preamble  and  resolution  were 
passed : 

(82a) 


CONCLUSION. 


321 


“The  Legislature  of  Kentucky,  taking  into  view 
the  many  eminent  services  rendered  by  Colonel 
Boone,  in  exploring  and  settling  the  western  country, 
from  which  great  advantages  have  resulted,  not  only 
to  this  State,  but  to  this  country  in  general,  and  that 
from  circumstances  over  which  he  had  no  control,  he 
is  now  reduced  to  poverty;  not  having,  so  far  as 
appears,  an  acre  of  land  out  of  the  vast  territory  he 
has  been  a  great  instrument  in  peopling;  believing 
also  that  it  is  as  unjust  as  it  is  impolitic,  that  useful 
enterprise  and  eminent  services  should  go  unrewarded 
by  a  Government  where  merit  confers  the  only  dis¬ 
tinction  ;  and  having  sufficient  reason  to  believe  that 

a  grant  of  ten  thousand  acres  of  land,  which  he  claims 

% 

in  Upper  Louisiana,  would  have  been  confirmed  by 
the  Spanish  Government,  had  not  said  territory  passed 
by  cession  into  the  hands  of  the  General  Government; 
therefore 

“  Resolved  by  the  General  Assembly  of  the  Com¬ 
monwealth  of  Kentucky :  That  our  Senators  in 
Congress  be  requested  to  make  use  of  their  exertions 
to  procure  a  grant  of  land  in  said  territory  to  said 
Boone,  either  the  ten  thousand  acres  to  which  he 
appears  to  have  an  equitable  claim,  from  the  grounds 
set  forth  to  this  Legislature,  by  way  of  confirmation, 
or  to  such  quantity  in  such  place  as  shall  be  deemed 
most  advisable  by  way  of  donation.” 


322 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


While  this  question  was  pending  before  Congress, 
Colonel  Roone  met  with  the  heaviest  grief  he  had 
thus  far  encountered.  In  the  month  of  March,  1813, 
his  wife,  whom  he  tenderly  loved,  died  at  the  age  of 
seventy-six.  She  had  been  one  of  the  best  of  wives  and 
mothers,  seeking  in  all  things  to  conform  to  the  wishes 
of  her  husband,  and  aid  him  in  his  plans.  She  was  a  de¬ 
voted  wife  and  a  loving  mother.  Colonel  Boone  selected 
upon  the  summit  of  a  ridge  the  place  for  her  burial, 
and  marked  out  the  spot  for  his  own  grave  by  her  side. 

We  have  no  means  of  knowing  what  were  the 
religious  views  which  sustained  Mrs.  Boone  in  her 
dying  hour.  Her  life  was  passed  in  the  discharge  of 
the  humble  duties  of  a  home  in  the  wilderness,  and 
she  had  no  biographer.  But  we  do  know  that  the 
religion  of  Jesus  had  penetrated  many  of  these  remote 
cabins,,  and  had  ennobled  the  lives  of  many  of  these 
hardy  pioneers. 

Under  the  Spanish  Government,  the  Roman  Catho¬ 
lic  Religion  was  the  established  religion  of  the  province, 
and  none  other  was  openly  tolerated.  Still,  the 
authorities  were  so  anxious  to  encourage  emigration 
from  the  United  States,  that  they  avoided  any  rigorous 
enforcement  of  the  law.  Each  emigrant  was  required 
to  be  “a  good  Catholic,”  un  bon  Catholique.  But  by 
connivance  of  the  authorities,  only  a  few  general 
questions  were  asked,  such  as : 


CONCLUSION. 


323 


“  Do  you  believe  in  Almighty  God  ?  in  the  Holy 
Trinity?  in  the  true  Apostolic  Church?  in  Jesus 
Christ  our  Saviour?  in  the  Holy  Evangelists ?” 

The  ceremony  was  closed  by  the  declaration  that 
the  applicant  was  un  bon  Catholique.  Thus  many 
Protestant  families  entered  the  Spanish  territory,  and 
remained  undisturbed  in  their  religious  principles. 
Protestant  clergymen  crossed  over  the  Mississippi 
river  and,  unmolested,  preached  the  gospel  in  the  log 
cabins  of  the  settlers.  The  Catholic  priests  received 
their  salaries  from  the  Spanish  crown,  and  no  taxes 
for  religion  were  imposed. 

The  Reverend  John  Clark,  a  very  zealous  Christian 
minister,  made  monthly  excursions  to  the  Spanish 
territory.  The  commandant  at  St.  Louis,  Mr.  Trudeau, 
would  take  no  notice  of  his  presence  till  the  time 
when  he  knew  that  Mr.  Clark  was  about  to  leave. 
Then  he  would  send  a  threatening  message  ordering 
him  to  leave  within  three  days.  One  of  the  emigrants, 
Mr.  Murich,  of  the  Baptist  persuasion,  petitioned  for 
permission  to  hold  religious  meetings  at  his  house  and 
to  have  Mr.  Clark  preach.  Mr.  Trudeau  replied: 

“  You  must  not  put  a  bill  upon  your  house,  or  call 
it  a  church.  But  if  any  of  your  friends  choose  to 
meet  at  your  house,  sing,  pray,  and  talk  about  religion, 
you  will  not  be  molested  provided  you  continue,  as  I 
suppose  you  are,  un  bon  Catholique” 


324  DANIEL  BOONE. 

Thus,  in  reality,  there  was  scarcely  any  restraint  in 
those  remote  regions,  even  under  the  Spanish  regime, 
imposed  upon  religious  freedom.  Christian  songs, 
the  penitential  and  the  triumphant,  often  ascended, 
blended  with  prayers  and  praises  from  these  lonely 
and  lowly  homes  in  the  wilderness.  Thus  characters 
were  formed  for  heaven,  and  life  was  ennobled,  and 
often  far  more  of  true  nobility  of  soul  and  more  real 
and  satisfying  enjoyment  were  found  in  those  log 
huts,  illumined  only  by  the  blaze  of  the  pitch  pine 
knot,  than  Louis  XIV.  and  his  courtiers  ever  ex¬ 
perienced  amidst  the  splendors  and  the  luxuries  of 
Versailles  and  of  Marly. 

We  do  not  know  that  Colonel  Boone  ever  made  a 
public  profession  of  his  faith  in  Christ,  though  some¬ 
where  we  have  seen  it  stated  that  he  died  an  honored 
member  of  the  Methodist  Church.  It  is  certain  that 
the  religious  element  predominated  in  his  nature.  He 
was  a  thoughtful,  serious,  devout,  good  man.  He 
walked  faithfully  in  accordance  with  the  light  and  the 
privileges  which  were  conferred  upon  him  in  his  sin¬ 
gularly  adventurous  life. 

Colonel  Boone  was  seventy-nine  years  of  age  when 
Congress  conferred  upon  him  a  grant  of  eight  hundred 
and  fifty  acres  of  land.  He  had  never  repined  at  his 
lot,  had  never  wasted  his  breath  in  unavailing  mur¬ 
murs.  He  contentedly  took  life  as  it  came,  and  was 


CONCLUSION. 


325 


ever  serene  and  cheerful.  But  this  grant  of  land, 
though  it  came  so  late,  greatly  cheered  him.  He  was 
no  longer  dependent  upon  others.  He  had  property 
rapidly  increasing  in  value  to  leave  to  the  children 
and  the  grand-children  he  so  tenderly  loved.  His 
aged  limbs  would  no  longer  allow  him  to  expose  him¬ 
self  to  the  vicissitudes  of  hunting,  and  he  took  up  his 
abode  with  one  of  his  sons,  enjoying,  perhaps,  as 
serene  and  happy  an  old  age  as  ever  fell  to  the  lot  of 
mortals.  His  conversation  often  gathered  charmed 
listeners  around  him,  for  he  had  a  very  retentive 
memory,  and  his  mind  was  crowded  with  the  incidents 
of  his  romantic  career.  It  is  said  that  at  this  period 
of  his  life  an  irritable  expression  never  escaped  his 
lips.  His  grand-children  vied  with  each  other  in 
affectionate  attentions  to  one  whom  they  ardently 
loved,  and  of  whose  celebrity  they  were  justly  proud. 

Colonel  Calloway,  the  gentleman  whose  two 
daughters  were  captured,  with  one  of  the  daughters 
of  Colonel  Boone,  in  a  boat  by  the  Indians,  which 
event  our  readers  will  recall  to  mind,  visited  Colonel 
Boone  in  Missouri  about  this  time.  He  gives  a  very 
pleasing  description  of  the  gentle  and  genial  old  man, 
as  he  then  found  him. 

His  personal  appearance  was  venerable  and  attrac¬ 
tive,  very  neatly  clad  in  garments  spun,  woven,  and 
made  in  the  cabin.  His  own  room  consisted  of  a 


3  26 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


cabin  by  itself,  and  was  in  perfect  order.  44  His 
countenance  was  pleasant,  calm,  and  fair,  his  forehead 
high  and  bold,  and  the  soft  silver  of  his  hair  in  unison 
with  his  length  of  days.  He  spoke  feelingly  and 
with  solemnity  of  being  a  creature  of  Providence, 
ordained  by  heaven  as  a  pioneer  in  the  wilderness  to 
advance  the  civilization  and  the  extension  of  his 
country.  He  professed  the  belief  that  the  Almighty 
had  assigned  to  him  a  work  to  perform,  and  that  he 
had  only  followed  the  pathway  of  duty  in  the  work 
he  had  pursued;  that  he  had  discharged  his  duty  to 
God  and  his  country  by  following  the  direction  of 
Providence.”  His  stormy  day  of  life  had  passed  away 
into  an  evening  of  unusual  beauty  and  serenity. 

Still  he  was  continually  busy,  engaged  in  innu¬ 
merable  acts  of  kindness  for  his  neighbors  and  his 
friends.  He  could  repair  rifles,  make  and  carve 
powder  horns  of  great  beauty,  and  could  fashion 
moccasins  and  snowshoes  of  the  most  approved 
patterns.  His  love  for  the  solitude  of  the  wilderness, 
and  for  the  excitement  of  the  hunter’s  life,  continued 
unabated.  He  loved  to  cut  tender  slices  of  venison, 
and  to  toast  them  upon  the  end  of  his  ramrod  over 
the  glaring  coals  of  his  cabin  fire,  finding  in  that 
repast  a  treat  more  delicious  than  any  gourmand 
ever  yet  experienced  in  the  viands  of  the  most  costly 
restaurants  of  the  Palais  Royal,  or  the  Boulevard. 


CONCLUSION. 


327 


Upon  one  occasion  he  could  not  resist  the  impulse 
of  again  going  hunting,  though  in  the  eighty-second 
year  of  his  age.  Exacting  from  his  friends  the  pro¬ 
mise  that  should  he  die,  his  remains  should  be  brought 
back  and  buried  by  the  side  of  those  of  his  wife,  he 
took  a  boy  with  him  and  went  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Kansas  River,  where  he  remained  two  weeks. 

Returning  from  this,  his  last  expedition,  he  visited 
his  youngest  son,  Major  Nathan  Roone,  who  had  reared 
a  comfortable  stone  house  in  that  remote  region,  to 
which  emigrants  were  now  rapidly  moving.  Here  he 
died  after  an  illness  of  but  three  days,  on  the  26th 
day  of  September,  1820.  He  was  then  eighty-six 
years  of  age. 

Soon  after  the  death  of  his  wife,  Colonel  Boone 
made  his  own  coffin,  which  he  kept  under  his  bed 
awaiting  the  day  of  his  burial.  In  this  coffin  he  was 
buried  by  the  side  of  his  wife.  Missouri,  though  very 
different  from  the  Missouri  of  the  present  day,  was  no 
longer  an  unpeopled  wilderness.  The  Indians  had 
retired;  thousands  of  emigrants  had  flocked  to  its 
fertile  plains,  and  many  thriving  settlements  had 
sprung  up  along  the  banks  of  its  magnificent  streams. 
The  great  respect  with  which  Colonel  Boone  was 
regarded  by  his  fellow-citizens,  was  manifest  in  the 
large  numbers  who  were  assembled  at  his  burial. 
The  Legislature  of  Missouri,  which  chanced  then  to 


328 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


be  in  session,  adjourned  for  one  day,  in  respect  for 
his  memory,  and  passed  a  resolve  that  all  the  members 
should  wear  a  badge  of  mourning  for  twenty  days. 
This  was  the  first  Legislature  of  the  new  State. 

Colonel  Boone  was  the  father  of  nine  children,  five 
sons  and  four  daughters.  His  two  eldest  sons  were 
killed  by  the  Indians.  His  third  son,  Daniel  Morgan 
Boone,  had  preceded  his  father  in  his  emigration  to 
the  Upper  Louisiana,  as  it  was  then  called,  and  had 
taken  up  his  residence  in  the  Femme  Osage  settle¬ 
ment.  Lie  became  a  man  of  influence  and  comparative 
wealth,  and  attained  the  advanced  age  of  fourscore. 
Jesse,  the  fourth  son,  also  emigrated  to  Upper 
Louisiana  about  the  year  1806,  where  he  died  a  few 
years  after.  The  youngest  son,  Nathan,  whose 
privilege  it  was  to  close  his  father’s  eyes  in  death,  had 
found  a  home  beyond  the  Mississippi ;  he  became  a 
man  of  considerable  note,  and  received  the  commission 
of  Captain  in  the  United  States  Dragoons.  The 
daughters,  three  of  whom  married,  lived  and  died  in 
Kentucky. 

In  the  meantime  Kentucky,  which  Boone  had 
found  a  pathless  wilderness,  the  hunting  ground  of 
Indians  who  were  scarcely  less  wild  and  savage 
than  the  beasts  they  pursued  in  the  chase,  was 
rapidly  becoming  one  of  the  most  populous,  wealthy 

and  prosperous  States  in  the  Union.  Upon  the  eastern 


CONCLUSION. 


329 


bank  of  the  Kentucky  River,  the  beautiful  city  of 
Frankfort  had  risen  surrounded  by  remarkably  roman¬ 
tic  and  splendid  scenery.  It  had  become  the  capital 
of  the  State,  and  was  situated  about  sixty  miles  from 
the  entrance  of  the  Kentucky  into  the  Ohio  River. 
Many  of  the  houses  were  tastefully  built  of  brick  or 
of  marble,  and  the  place  was  noted  for  its  polished, 
intelligent,  and  hospitable  society. 

It  was  but  a  few  miles  above  Frankfort  upon  this 
same  river  that  Colonel  Boone  had  reared  the  log 
fort  of  Boonesborough,  when  scarcely  a  white  man 
could  be  found  west  of  the  Alleghanies.  In  the  year 
1845,  the  citizens  of  Frankfort,  having,  in  accordance 
with  the  refinements  of  modern  tastes,  prepared  a 
beautiful  rural  cemetery  in  the  suburbs  of  their  town, 
resolved  to  consecrate  it  by  the  interment  of  the 
remains  of  Daniel  Boone  and  his  wife.  The  Legis¬ 
lature,  appreciating  the  immense  obligations  of  the 
State  to  the  illustrious  pioneer,  co-operated  with  the 
citizens  of  Frankfort  in  this  movement.  For  twenty- 
five  years  the  remains  of  Col.  Boone  and  his  wife  had 
been  mouldering  in  the  grave  upon  the  banks  of  the 
Missouri. 

“  There  seemed,”  said  one  of  the  writers  of  that  day, 
“to  be  a  peculiar  propriety  in  this  testimonial  of  the 
veneration  borne  by  the  Commonwealth  for  the 
memory  of  its  illustrious  dead.  And  it  was  fitting 


330  .  DANIEL  BOONE. 

that  the  soil  of  Kentucky  should  afford  the  final 
resting  place  for  his  remains,  whose  blood  in  life  had 
been  so  often  shed  to  protect  it  from  the  fury  of 
savage  hostility.  It  was  the  beautiful  and  touching 
manifestation  of  filial  affection  shown  by  children  to 
the  memory  of  a  beloved  parent ;  and  it  was  right  that 
the  generation  which  was  reaping  the  fruits  of  his 
toils  and  dangers  should  desire  to  have  in  their  midst 
and  decorate  with  the  tokens  of  their  love,  the  sepul¬ 
chre  of  this  Primeval  Patriarch  whose  stout  heart 
watched  by  the  cradle  of  this  now  powerful  Common¬ 
wealth.” 

The  honored  remains  of  Daniel  Boone  and  his  wife 
were  brought  from  Missouri  to  Frankfort,  and  the 
re-interment  took  place  on  the  13th  of  September, 

1845.  The  funeral  ceremonies  were  very  imposing. 
Colonel  Richard  M.  Johnson,  who  had  been  Vice- 
President  of  the  United  States,  and  others  of  the  most 
distinguished  citizens  of  Kentucky,  officiated  as  pall¬ 
bearers.  The  two  coffins  were  garlanded  with  flowers, 
and  an  immense  procession  followed  them  to  their 
final  resting  place.  The  Hon.  John  J.  Crittenden, 
who  was  regarded  as  the  most  eloquent  man  in  the 
State,  pronounced  the  funeral  oration.  And  there 
beneath  an  appropriate  monument,  the  body  of  Daniel 


CONCLUSION.  331 

Boone  now  lies,  awaiting  the  summons  of  the  resurrec¬ 
tion  trumpet. 

“  Life’s  labor  done,  securely  laid 
In  this  his  last  retreat, 

Unheeded  o’er  his  silent  dust. 

The  storms  of  earth  shall  beat.” 


THE  END. 


/ 


I 


GETTY  CENTER  LIBRARY 


3125  00705  2158 


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